Slow Motion
by Merlin71
Summary: Elizabeth goes missing and John is now in charge of Atlantis until they get her back. It's not going well.
1. Prologue

First and foremost, my most humble thanks to Melissa for the beta. :hugs you:  
Disclaimer: I don't own them.  
Archive: Anywhere

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**Slow Motion** by Merlin 7

"I think it's a bad idea," John offered, from his seat at the opposite end of the conference table where Weir was holding fort.

She locked eyes with him, smiled blandly, then asked, "Why?"

John shrugged, but held her gaze. "We don't know the Pyrdians and they don't know us, but they are awfully insistent that you be the one to handle the negotiations on our end. Why is that?"

"The Pyrdians have a culture similar to the mythology of the Amazons. The women rule and they're more comfortable talking to another woman." Elizabeth's smile warmed a bit as she added, "And it's not as if I'll be alone. Lorne and his team will be watching over me."

"I'd feel better if it were my team," John shot back, leaning forward in his chair. It wasn't that he didn't trust Lorne and his men; it was just that John knew he had the best team on Atlantis. He had handpicked it for a reason. The four of them could, reasonably, be considered a ragtag band of misfits. But when they were working together, it was seamless. Somehow, someway, they became the true definition of what teamwork was meant to be.

Elizabeth nodded, accepting his concerns. "I wish you could be there too, Colonel. But given the fact that you're grounded for the next two weeks until you're fully recovered from your injuries, having you along isn't an option. Otherwise, your team would be going with me."

John hid a wince. He felt a bit guilty that he was grounded. Not that it was his fault he had gotten injured. What bothered John most was that he'd sustained the injury here on Atlantis. Teyla and Ronon had been on the mainland at the time, while John had been helping Rodney and Zelenka run some tests on the Throne chair. Zelenka believed that there was more of an interface connection between the chair and the user than they had previously believed and Rodney had decided to humor him on it. Enter John, universal guinea.

It was when they'd been thusly preoccupied, that one of the other scientists working independently had managed an overload of power that sent alarms going off. John, along with Rodney and Zelenka, had rushed to the problem area. Rodney and Zelenka had tried to do a shut down and they'd managed to force the overload into one, specific area. Rodney had been certain he was close to getting it fixed when John had, literally, thrown him out of the room. He hadn't made it completely out of there himself before the explosion hit. The last thing John remembered was hitting a wall. Hard. Then lights out until two weeks ago.

So, now his ribs were healing, his shoulder only ached after physical therapy, and his headaches were no longer as intense as they had been. But he was still grounded for two more weeks. Beckett's main concern was the lingering headaches. John bitched about it, but he still let Beckett keep an eye on him. He needed to be one hundred percent once he was back in the field. Anything less would not be fair to his team. Still, he didn't like being left behind. "Can't you hold off on negotiations for another two weeks?" John asked, already knowing what Weir's answer would be.

"They're not a patient people," Elizabeth replied. "We're lucky we're even getting the chance to talk to them. As Teyla told us, her people were never allowed a chance at negotiations."

"We don't even know what they have to offer," Rodney piped up, not even glancing up from his laptop as he spoke. He sounded annoyed, and Sheppard figured McKay wasn't thrilled with the mandatory attendance for the meeting. But John felt almost grateful to him for that small show of support, half-hearted as it was, but he could see that Weir wasn't falling for it.

Smile firmly in place, Elizabeth stated, "I leave in two hours and that's final. The negotiations are expected to last for two days, given that the Pyrdians are big on ceremony. During that time, Colonel Sheppard...you're in charge of Atlantis."

"Lucky me," John muttered, slouching further into his chair, then wincing a bit when his ribs protested. Not that it was the first time he'd been in charge. Elizabeth had gone offworld a couple of months ago, but she'd returned in eight hours. Eight hours during which nothing had actually gone wrong. Although there had been hours of paper work she'd left for him to go through. John was not looking forward to all the paper work he would be required to handle while she was gone this time. Paper work had never been his thing. John knew he'd never be a desk jockey. If he couldn't be out in the field somewhere, then he'd simply retire and indulge in other excitements. Life was what you made of it, and paper pushing just wasn't life in John Sheppard's book.

"I guess we're done then," Elizabeth said, rising from her chair.

John watched everyone leave then got up himself. He was almost to the door when Elizabeth stopped him.

She touched his arm lightly. "How are you feeling?"

"I'm good." John offered a smile. He was touched by her concern for him. "Don't worry about me. Just worry about yourself and stay sharp."

"I'll be fine," Elizabeth insisted. "Don't you have an appointment with Beckett this morning?"

John glanced at his watch and made a face. "Yeah...in about ten minutes. He's worse than a mother hen."

Elizabeth chuckled then patted his shoulder consolingly. "He's just making sure you're okay. We need you to be."

"I'm okay," John stated, then locked eyes with Weir. "Look...since you insist on doing this, I want you to take Teyla with you. Being a woman, the Pyridians should let her into the meetings with you. And if something goes down, she can kick ass with the best of them."

"I don't know," Elizabeth hesitated. "They're expecting me to come alone. Just getting them to allow me to bring Lorne and his men through the gate was hard enough."

John was going to be insistent about this. "Lorne and his team will be too far away to do anything if you need help. Teyla can be with you. You're not equipped to handle physical combat, in case the Pyrdians are."

Elizabeth still looked uncertain. "They haven't shown themselves to be a warrior race, John."

"What you see isn't always what you get," he shot back. He knew that from experience. Painful experience, at times. "Just take Teyla with you. Worst the Pyrdians can do is send her away. But if they do let her stay, then you know she's got your back."

"Alright, I'll bring Teyla," conceded Elizabeth.

John didn't hide his relief. "Great. I'll let her know so she can be ready."

Elizabeth grabbed his arm when he turned to go. "I'll let her know. You have a doctor's appointment."

"Okay...I take it back. Beckett's not the mother hen, you are." But John's words were teasing and he nodded his agreement. "Fine. I'll go see Beckett then talk to Teyla. Just to give her a few instructions."

"So who don't you trust, John?" Elizabeth queried, with obvious interest. "Me or Teyla?"

He didn't hesitate in his reply. "The Pyrdians. I want you back quick and in one piece. Running Atlantis is not my idea of fun, so it's in my best interest to get you back soon and safe."

Elizabeth laughed softly. "Is the paper work really that bad?" She laughed again when he rolled his eyes at her.

"I swear, ninety-five percent of your job is paper work," John said, as they headed out of the conference room together. "Granted, you do most of it on the computer, but still. It's boring enough to induce a coma within two hours."

"What are you implying?" Elizabeth teased. "That I'm brain damaged?"

John knew how to slide himself out of this pothole with finesse. "I'm saying that you are uniquely qualified to do your job and that I am not. Which is my way of saying, come back as soon as you can. Preferably by tonight. Rodney's already hounding me to approve something you've been giving him the run around on."

Elizabeth quirked an eyebrow. "You mean further testing on the puddle jumpers?"

"That's the one." John headed for the nearest transporter, hoping Elizabeth would drop the subject. Instead, she simply followed him inside. When the door whooshed shut, John started counting in his head and he got to four before Elizabeth asked,

"Does Rodney really think he can turn a puddle jumper into a time machine?"

John winced then shrugged. "Janus did. Right? Rodney figures he's smarter than Janus."

A smiled curved Elizabeth's mouth. "Well...Rodney is pretty smart."

"He is." No way was John going to argue about that one. Rodney had gotten them out of plenty of hot spots time after time. That said, they continued on in companionable silence. It didn't take them long to reach the infirmary, where Elizabeth excused herself to go off and find Teyla. The Athosian woman wouldn't have much time to prepare for the mission. Not that she would need much time. John had learned, early on, that Teyla was pretty much ready for anything, anytime. It was a trait he had come to appreciate on more than one occasion.

"Colonel...lovely to see you." The greeting came from Carson as he headed in John's direction, a smile on his face.

John swallowed a grumpy reply. He knew the doc was just looking out for him and he, mostly, appreciated it. So he plastered a smile on his face and nodded. "Am I late?"

Carson shook his head. "Not at all. Right on time in fact. Come this way and we'll do a quick exam and you'll be on your way." As he spoke, Carson led John to a bed in the back. He gestured for him to hop up then asked, "How are the headaches?"

"Better." John didn't offer anything else. He didn't want to go into details. He didn't want to have to mention that he wasn't sleeping all that great due to nightmares and such. Which left him feeling tired, messed with his appetite, all of which meant his headaches were worse than they should have been.

"Did you eat breakfast?" Carson queried, as he blinded John with his penlight.

John waited until the evil light was gone, resisting the urge to wince because it made his headache worse, but being able to use the guise of rubbing his eyes to ease it a bit. "I did," he replied.

Carson was humming softly. "What did you have?"

"Food," John shot back, knowing that he was now being tested and having a feeling he'd already failed in some way.

"Toast and half a glass of juice is not enough food," Carson replied, looking smug.

John was astonished at first then he was pissed. "You're spying on me!" he accused, stabbing a finger in Beckett's direction.

Carson merely grinned. "I do what I have to do, Colonel. And you know you have to eat more than that. Which leads me to believe that your stomach is feeling off and the reason for that would be headaches. And I'm guessing the main culprit is lack of sleep."

"You got all that from my eating toast this morning?" John countered, and he was almost impressed. Almost. He didn't like the way Beckett was eyeing him.

"I got all that from the dark circles under your eyes," Carson replied as he pulled up a stool and sat down. "Why aren't you sleeping, Colonel? Are you in too much pain? I can give you something to help with that."

John considered lying to Beckett, but he knew he had to break out of the cycle he was in so he went with the truth. "Can't get my brain to shut off." After confessing, John watched Beckett closing, trying to judge the good doc's reaction. There was one thing he did not want to hear and that was Heightmeyer's name. John would do pretty much anything Beckett told him too, except talk to Heightmeyer.

Carson was eyeing John with concern, looking as if he was weighing his options. After a long moment of silence he said, "I could give you a little something to help you sleep. Something very mild."

"That's tempting," John conceded, but then he shook his head. "But not now. With Dr. Weir going off world, I can't afford to be out of it."

"Being in charge of Atlantis doesn't mean you can't get a good night's sleep," Carson countered. "You know I prescribe sedatives for Dr. Weir." He paused to lock eyes with John. "And she takes them. We all need help some times, Colonel."

John knew that better than anyone. He huffed out a breath, feeling impatient and frustrated with his own uncertainty. He wanted to get a good night's sleep, but he hated having to rely on medication to do it. Still, maybe it could help break him out of the cycle he was in. "Okay...I'll take whatever you're offering, Doc," John agreed, albeit a bit begrudgingly.

Carson looked pleased, patting John on one knee before rising from the stool. "Be back in a minute," he said, before hurrying off.

Knowing the exam was over, John slid off the table and leaned against it instead. He had to fight the urge to pace. A moment later Beckett was back with a small, green, bottle. He looked almost relieved as he held it out to John. Taking it, John shook the bottle and he was surprised to realize it was half full. He popped the top and stared at the tiny white pills. "Looks like more than one, doc," John drawled.

"To get your body back into a normal sleep cycle, it's going to take more than one good night's sleep," Carson stated. "Besides which, don't expect miracles, Colonel. These pills are fairly strong, but everyone reacts to them differently and from when I've needed to sedate you in the past, I think you'll need something stronger than average. But that still doesn't mean they'll just knock you out for eight hours. Your body may have to adjust to them before they work properly. You have enough for two weeks, and that's with taking a double dose at times. And I want you to let me know if you have to take two, especially if you have to do so for more than three days. At which point I'll see about prescribing something stronger."

"Got it." John pocketed the pills. He wasn't even positive yet he was going to use them. Maybe just knowing he had them would help. "So I'm done?" he asked, hopefully.

A frown marred Carson's face, but he nodded.

John took a step towards the door, only to pause when Beckett called him back. He turned around, expectantly. "Did I forget something?"

"No, I did," Carson replied. "I want you to get something else to eat, Colonel."

"Fine." John wasn't going to argue that one because he was actually feeling a bit hungry. He hoped that was it but Beckett was moving to stand before him, eyes looking grim. "What else?" John knew something was coming.

Carson sighed then said, "I really wish you would consider talking to Dr. Heightmeyer. I mean...just one session might help you more than any pill can."

John appreciated Beckett's concern, but he shook his head. "Talking won't help, doc. I know my demons. Some things you just have to learn to live with." He knew Beckett understood what he meant. Since coming to Atlantis the good doc had acquired demons of his own. With a pat to Beckett's shoulder, John turned and walked away, feeling the bottle of pills shift in his pocket with each step.

OoO

It felt strange to John to be the one standing on the steps of the gateroom, waiting for Doctor Weir to step through. It was even weirder seeing Lorne and Teyla flanking her. He desperately wanted to be the one going through the gate, but he hid what he was feeling behind a warm smirk. "Ready to go?" he asked, Weir.

She nodded at him, looking excited. John knew that feeling and envied her. Elizabeth seemed to notice and she patted his arm. "You'll be back through the gate soon, John."

"Not soon enough," he muttered, so only she could hear him. Then he cleared his throat and looked over to Lorne. "Bring her back safe, Major," John ordered. He was smiling as he said it, but he knew his message was loud and clear.

Lorne received it and nodded. "Will do, Sir. We'll be back in no time."

John sincerely hoped so. "Better be," he stated, locking eyes with Lorne. "I really don't want to do her job any longer than I have too. And it's already been ten minutes too long." Which was the time since Elizabeth had officially handed over the city to him. It made John nervous as hell when she did that.

Teyla stepped closer to him, smiling as she met his gaze. "We will take good care of Doctor. Weir," she promised.

"I know you will." John had complete faith in Teyla to keep her word. He smiled his appreciation then looked at Elizabeth. When she nodded he called out to the tech above him, "Dial the gate!" They all watched it whoosh open then Elizabeth turned and made to leave. John caught her by the arm to ask, "Before you go, anything to add to the to do list while you're gone?"

"No." Elizabeth's smile was wide and her eyes were warm and shining with trust as she replied, "I know you'll take good care of Atlantis while I'm gone." That said she turned and walked through the gate.

John watched her go, praying that her trust would not be in vain.


	2. Chapter 1

It had only been six hours.

A mere six hours since Elizabeth and the others had stepped through the gate, but to John it felt more like six days. From the moment she was gone and the event horizon had dissipated, John had felt unsettled. He couldn't explain to himself what was bothering him exactly. Maybe the trust Elizabeth had put in him. Whatever it was, it had taken a concentrated effort of will power on his part not to order the gate redialed so he could step through after her.

Instead John had sought refuge in Elizabeth's office. Big mistake. Suddenly everyone and anyone needed him for something. At first he considered it a good distraction, but after about two hours he was ready to tear his hair out and he was pretty sure Elizabeth's ears had to be ringing from his curses at her. He threw a few curses Beckett's way as well. After a mere hour had passed, the Doc had called John on the radio, asking if he'd gotten anything to eat yet.

"Not yet!" John had snapped. "I'm busy." He had tapped off and figured that was that. Only an hour later Beckett called again. Then again, until John had tossed his radio out the door and had threatened anyone who even thought about disturbing him if Beckett tried to contact him again. And for a while, he had some peace.

John had settled into the flow of things and was plowing his way through his own paper work. Only to suddenly find Ronon planted in front of his desk. The minute John saw him he knew who had sent the Runner. Having retrieved his radio piece just moments before, because he felt he was finally safe from Beckett's nagging, John reached for it with the intent of giving the doc a piece of his mind. An intent he betrayed by snarling "Beckett, you rat bastard!" under his breath.

In the time it took to blink, John found his wrist trapped in Ronon's steady grip. When he looked up the Satedan had stated, "You can walk with me to the mess hall, or I can carry you. Your choice," Ronon had added, arching a brow at John.

Not being a stupid man, John had walked to the mess hall and that was why he found himself currently seated at a corner table, choking down a poor imitation of Lasagna under Ronon's watchful gaze. Thankfully he had grabbed a tall glass of juice to help wash the stuff down. He was draining half of it when Ronon finally spoke up.

"You like being in charge of Atlantis?"

"No." John knew Ronon preferred blunt honesty. As he spoke he pushed his half eaten plate of food aside, only to find it shoved back in front of him.

Ronon was glaring at him. "Eat."

John glared back; he was in charge after all, so that gave him the advantage. Or so he hoped. Because even though Ronon had made the choice to be on John's team and follow his orders, the big guy also had John's own annoying habit - annoying to their superior's that is - of choosing which particular orders to obey. "I did eat!" he snapped, pointing to the saucy mess of goop on his plate.

"Eat more." Ronon's glare never wavered. "Right now I could pick you up with one hand."

"Bullshit!" John was getting pissed. He knew he was down a pound or two but he was getting tired of people always ragging on him because he was slim. He had a good metabolism and it wasn't like that was a crime or something. Unless you talked to Rodney. McKay was vocal in his belief that John was on a permanent diet. He called it the eat like a bird diet. John had given up on trying to convince him otherwise. Instead he had accepted the perks of Rodney's misconception. Especially given the fact that, because of it, Rodney felt inclined to sneak John chocolate and cookies from his secret horde.

Ronon's glare never wavered. But his tone was surprisingly soft when he said, "She'll come back."

John blinked at that. He knew Ronon was talking about Elizabeth, but he wondered if the Satedan had the wrong idea about his feelings for her. Elizabeth was nothing more than a friend, a good friend. And the first person to believe in him - without reservations - in a long time. "I know she'll come back," John muttered, still ignoring the plate Ronon had shoved back at him. His appetite was kaput.

"Then eat," Ronon stated, his tone sharper now.

A sour retort was on the tip of John's tongue when his radio beeped. He tapped it then said, "Sheppard here."

Rodney's voice came crackling back at him. "Why aren't you in the Chair room?"

"Because I'm in the mess hall," John shot back, automatically. "What's up, Rodney?"

"Zelenka and I are in the Chair room, waiting on you!" McKay snapped back. "Are you coming?"

John hesitated, avoiding Ronon's penetrating gaze even as he pushed his chair away from the table. "I have paper work to do," he said, finally.

The snort from Rodney was loud in John's ear and made him wince. "Puhleez," Rodney drawled, in that cadence that was uniquely McKay, which meant the drawl was more like a pop of sound. "We both know you're not going to do anything that even remotely resembles paper work, Colonel. So stop wasting both our times and get down here!" A crackle of static and Rodney was gone.

"Gotta go," John said to Ronon, using Rodney's command, which he was a bit irritated at but willing to let slide since, for the moment, it worked in his favor as a means of escape from his unappetizing dinner.

"I'll stop in later," Ronon countered, his meaning very clear. He would be stopping by to collect John to make sure he ate.

John shrugged at him, grabbed his tray and headed for the nearest garbage bin. He dumped the food, set his plate in the proper bin, deposited his tray in the slot with a bunch of others then he hurried out the door. Five minutes later he was in the Chair room. He hadn't taken two steps in the door when Radek was on him, grabbing John by the arm and leading him over to the chair. John was shoved into it, making faces all the while as he tried to decipher Zelenka's mix of English and Czech, all of which was being nattered at him non stop. At least John thought it was being directed at him, since Zelenka was looking at him while he talked. After a moment John glanced down at Rodney who was sitting on the floor, tapping away at his laptop. "What's going on?" John asked.

Rodney didn't even look up as he replied, "I figured out a way to download data from the chair. I think."

"We...figured out a way," Zelenka interjected, scowling at Rodney. Then he was tapping John on the arm and ordering, "Do your thing, prosim."

"Right." John made a face, then made himself comfortable in the chair. It'd come to life, lighting up the moment he'd been shoved into it. They knew about the drones and the weapons capabilities of the Chair, but John knew they were looking for something more. More data, more of a connection. So far he had been able to tap into what Rodney believed were schematics for shielding and the like. Which meant better protection for Atlantis, if they were lucky. Which was why John was willing to help out with this particular experiment. He closed his eyes and connected with the chair.

Doing so had become as easy as breathing for John. He simply tapped into the hum of awareness that enveloped him whenever he sat in the chair. He let himself be absorbed by it, let it flow over him until he felt as if they had intertwined to become one breath, one heartbeat, one being. As if from a distance he heard Rodney asking him to bring up the shield schematics. Then there were other commands and in between obeying them, John attempted to deepen his connection to the chair. To see if he could discover any secrets. At one point he realized he was kind of zoning out and only Zelenka's tap on his face brought him back to full awareness.

"Colonel, are you all right?" Radek asked, his expression revealing his concern.

"I'm...good," John replied, hoping Zelenka wouldn't catch on to the fact he was lying through his teeth. At this very moment, pain throbbed in his temples, making him feel a bit nauseous. The connection this time had been deeper than ever before. Deeper in a way that he couldn't define. At least not with his current headache. The pain was making it hard for John to focus. He glanced over at Rodney as he eased out of the chair. "We done?" It was courtesy question, because John was not getting back in the chair today. All he wanted to do was go to his room, take a long shower then curl up in bed.

Rodney was staring at his lap top screen like a man entranced. "Yes yes," he stated, abstractly waving one hand in John's direction. "Go away now."

John resisted the urge to roll his eyes, knowing it would make his head hurt more, and settled for smiling at Zelenka with something akin to sympathy. "Fill me in later," he requested.

"I will do that," Radek allowed, then he was moving to sit next to McKay and both of them were absorbed by the data display before them.

"Scientists," John muttered good-naturedly, as he made his way out of the room. He really wanted to take a nap, but he knew he couldn't get away with it. For several reasons. One being that if Carson found out he would be certain to haul him back to the infirmary for more tests and things. Which was the last thing John wanted. So he headed back to Elizabeth's office. He knew where she kept her private stash of Aleve and once in the office he popped two then settled back into work until a knock sounded on the door.

When John lifted his eyes from the computer screen, he was surprised to see Beckett standing in the doorway, holding a heavily laden tray. "Let me guess, I missed supper," John drawled, as the tray was set down on the desk before him. After Carson nudged the laptop out of the way.

Carson looked a bit grim. "You did," he confirmed, as he pulled a chair over and settled himself into it. "So I decided to bring dinner to you."

"There's enough food here for six people," John commented, as his eyes roamed over the plates and bowls. There was some kind of stew, what passed for chicken and mashed potatoes. Carrots, rolls and cake for dessert, along with two glasses of milk.

"I think you and I can polish it off," Carson said, confidently, as he grabbed one of the plates and started to dig in.

Knowing he wasn't going to get out of it, John took a plate of his own and started eating. A few bites in he realized he was starving and that even the fake mashed potatoes tasted pretty good. Twenty minutes later, with minimal chatter, John managed to clear off half his plate and finish the glass of milk. He waved off the cake, saying he'd eat it later, then grinned at Beckett. "Thanks for bringing dinner."

Carson set his own empty plate on the tray then moved it off to the side. "You're welcome, Colonel, but you really do need to eat more." He raised a hand to still John's protest. "Normally you're a good eater, but when you're off your feed you lose weight easily. Which you have in the past two weeks. You know I'm just trying to get you up to par again."

"I do know," John conceded, as he relaxed back into his chair and stretched a bit. "I'm not trying to give you a hard time, Doc. I'm just...preoccupied."

"Doctor Weir will be back soon," Carson reminded him.

John grinned at that. "I know. But it's not soon enough. And she lied about not leaving me any paper work." He had the grace to suddenly look sheepish. "Albeit, it's mostly my own that I've managed to ignore for a couple of months."

Carson smiled back. "Paper work that will still be there in the morning," he said, pointedly. "You need to get some sleep. Don't forget you have a PT session in the morning."

"Like you'd let me forget," John griped, even as he found himself rotating his left shoulder. It twinged a bit and was still stiff, but otherwise it felt pretty good. Almost back to normal. "So how many more sessions do I have to have anyway?"

"At least three more," Carson replied. "I know your shoulder is feeling pretty good right now, but you need to keep working at it or it will give you problems down the road."

John didn't want that to happen so he let it drop. Then he took the - not so subtle - hint that Beckett was trying to give him and shut down the laptop. A moment later he left the office with Beckett, but they parted ways at the transporter.

Once in his room, John headed straight for the shower. The hot water felt wonderful and relaxing and by the time he was done he felt ready to crawl into bed and sleep for a week. But he knew that sleep would be elusive once the dreams kicked in, so John retrieved the pill bottle from his BDU's and uncapped it. He shook out one pill, swallowed it down with half a glass of water, then he crawled into bed. Curling up comfortably, John waited for it to take effect. He didn't have long to wait. Warm darkness wrapped around him and John let himself be carried into sleep.

He came awake with a jolt, biting his lip against crying out, as much from the pain throbbing in his temples as from the dream. Scratch that, nightmare. Ford had returned to Atlantis, more Wraith than human now, and he had slaughtered everyone. In the dream John had been sleeping when it happened and he woke up to find the corridors of Atlantis stained red with blood and no one left alive but himself. The sound of Ford's maniacal laughter still echoed in John's ears.

Rubbing his eyes, John then glanced at his watch. He'd only been asleep for two hours. It wasn't nearly enough. If he didn't start getting some real sleep, and soon, John knew he'd end up being grounded. And that thought was enough to have him reaching for the sleeping pills. He popped another one as he slid out of bed and headed for the bathroom for a glass of water. Then he crawled back under the covers and closed his eyes. He started counting backwards from one thousand and he was on twenty-two before darkness claimed him once more.

OoO

The next day was pretty much a repeat of the day before, except it started with John's PT session. After which he took a hot shower, headed for the mess hall, and then he made a pit stop in Elizabeth's office to check the schedule for the day. Nothing pressing. So John went back to the Chair room with Rodney and Zelenka, broke off for lunch when Ronon appeared and glared at him, then John hid out doing more paper work.

A little after noon, Beckett showed up and deposited a turkey sandwich on his desk. John thanked him then took a bite, feeling Beckett's eyes on him the whole time. "I don't do tricks," he commented, after a sip of coffee.

"How did you sleep last night?" Carson asked, bluntly.

"Had to take two pills," John confessed. "But then I slept for six hours straight."

Carson didn't look pleased. "That's not enough sleep."

John stared at him, wide-eyed. "Are you kidding me? A six-hour stretch for me is like sleeping in on the weekend. Well...the weekends back on Earth." There wasn't much _sleeping in _time in Atlantis. Not for anyone.

"Keep me informed," Carson stated, then he glanced at his watch. "I have to go but I want you to eat that sandwich. All of it." He shook a finger at John.

"Yes Mom," John drawled, grinning at Beckett when the man cursed him softly. He watched the good doc rush off then returned his attention to the laptop. But John did eat as he worked, stopping only to pop a couple Aleve. By the time dinner rolled around he had the paper work finished and a bit of calculating reminded him that Elizabeth was due back in six hours."

John was considering sneaking off to the gym to see if he could get Ronon to do some light sparring with him when the tech sergeant informed him they had radio contact with the Daedalus. "Patch them through," John ordered, as he left the office and moved to the console. "Colonel Caldwell, this is Sheppard."

A moment of silence then Caldwell's voice filled the air. "Colonel. I'm surprised to hear from you. Is Doctor Weir busy?"

"She's off world at the moment," John countered. "I'm watching the office in her absence. I take it you're close by?"

"Four days out," Caldwell replied.

John was glad that Elizabeth would be back to deal with the man. They still had a prickly relationship themselves, mainly because of their disagreements about how John had handled things with Ford. If he could have turned back time, John would have done a lot of things differently. "We look forward to seeing you," John said, diplomatically. He could be on his best behavior when he wanted too.

Another moment of silence then Caldwell said, "We'll be there soon and we come bearing gifts. Or rather, supplies. More coffee and chocolate." It was a peace offering and John knew it.

"Can't wait," he replied. "See you in four days. Atlantis out." John made a cut off motion with one hand and the tech responded. He then told the man he'd be in the gym before heading for the stairs. Only to remember he hadn't shut down the computer so John headed back to the office and had just stepped inside when his radio beeped. John tapped it. "Sheppard here."

"We've got a problem," Rodney babbled urgently.

John felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. "What kind of a problem?" he countered, as he moved to shut the office door. Rodney had a tendency to be over dramatic at times, but there was something in his voice that set off warning bells.

There was the sound of whispering then Rodney's shaky voice announced, "There are hive ships on the way. Three of them."

"What?" John hadn't expected that. "Wait...how do you know?" The techs outside of Weir's office were always monitoring the long-range sensors. They would have detected something. So John strode out the door and checked for himself. "I'm not seeing anything."

"Zelenka and I discovered some new uses for the information you retrieved from the chair. Apparently the Wraith have learned a few things since the last Siege. Like how to cloak their ships. It won't show up on our other sensors."

Not good news and John felt his stomach twist into a giant knot of dread. "How soon will they be here?"

There was a long moment of strained silence, then Zelenka's voice whispered, "Two weeks."


	3. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone for the awesome reviews:D

* * *

John was tired. The kind of tired that was like a slow burn that sizzled through out every muscle in your body. A part of him wanted nothing more than to curl up somewhere and go to sleep. The thing was, after finding out about the Hive ships coming; he was now too wound up. His body was pumping adrenaline like there was no tomorrow. So even though he could feel the exhaustion, he wouldn't be able to act on it. Sleep would be elusive.

Equally elusive was coming up with a plan to defeat the Wraith. John had spent two hours with Rodney and Zelenka, trying to decide what to do first. A specific protocol was already in place. After the first attack on Atlantis is had been decided, as a group, to send all Ancient data uncovered back to Earth via the Daedalus. So they had been doing that for months now. That way, if they had no choice but to destroy Atlantis, at least some of the history and data could be saved. Zelenka had since created a virus that would wipe clean both the Ancient and the Earth databases so that nothing would be left for the Wraith to find. Also, it had been decided that instead of blowing up Atlantis as a whole, they would simply destroy the gate. Between that and the virus, the Wraith would have no way or means of finding Earth.

But that was getting ahead of himself and John knew it. He settled back in Elizabeth's chair, both grateful and resigned that she would be back in four hours. He hated the news he'd have to hit her with, but such was life in the Pegasus galaxy. One never-ending, hard core, roller coaster thrill ride. John definitely preferred Ferris wheels.

One thing he had gotten out of his meeting with Rodney and Zelenka was the hope that the Chair might be more useful to them this time. They had replenished their drone supply and John still believed it had more capabilities, as did Rodney. As soon as Elizabeth returned, John had promised Rodney he would be back in the chair so they could do more testing. One bit of good news was that the Daedalus was already on their way to Atlantis, but John decided he'd let Elizabeth be the one to contact them about the Hive ships.

With that thought in mind, he reached for the Aleve bottle again and had just swallowed two of them when Beckett came striding into the office. Basically catching him red-handed. "Hey, Doc," John drawled.

"Colonel." Carson studied him with a narrowed gaze, then averted his eyes to the Aleve bottle. "How many did you take?"

"A couple," John replied, easily.

Carson nodded. "How often have you been taking them?"

John shrugged. "I'm not really keeping track." The moment the words were out he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Beckett's expression tightened.

"Not a good sign, Son," Carson stated. "Are the headaches getting worse?"

"Not really," John countered, hoping to dodge an inquisition. He really did appreciate Beckett's concern for his welfare, but sometimes the man was worse than his mother had ever been. And there had been times, during John's childhood illnesses and injuries, when his mother had fawned over him so obsessively that it had pushed him to lie about his condition just to get her to leave him alone. There was mothering, then there was smothering, and sometimes it was a very fine line.

Carson grabbed the Aleve bottle and studied its contents. John watched the various expressions flitting across the doc's face. Surprise, then concern, then determination. John knew that was because there were only two pills left.

Before Beckett could say anything, John intervened in his own defense. "The bottle was almost empty when I started popping them. So bitch at Elizabeth when she gets back." Slumping back into her chair, John allowed himself the luxury of rubbing his forehead for a moment. "I've earned this headache," he muttered to himself.

"I heard about the Hive ships," Carson said, softly, growing a bit pale. Accepting what he had to know was a blatant attempt at distraction. "What are we going to do?"

"Everything we can," John replied, with as much certainty as he could muster. He knew that everyone would be looking to him to be strong, calm and positive. Some days it really sucked to be him. Not even a year had passed since the last Siege and he really was not feeling up to dealing with another one. John wished he had magic powers so he could poof the Wraith out of existence. Man he needed to stop reading the Harry Potter books. He blamed Lt. Cadman for that. On the last Daedalus run she'd brought him all six books, for his own collection, after he'd made a comment during some off time rec period. He'd been dressed in jeans, a t-shirt and a hoodie sweat jacket, and she'd blurted out how he looked like a grown up Harry potter, minus the glasses. When he'd blinked at her in confusion, she had explained to him about Harry Potter and Hogwarts, then she'd given him the novels with the promise to give him the movies to watch, after he'd read the entire series to date. So John was up to book three. Damn things were addicting in a way that War and Peace had never been.

Carson cleared his throat, obviously trying to get John's attention. When he had it he asked, "When is Doctor Weir due back?"

John glanced at his watch. "Less than four hours," he said, and at that precise moment he heard the sound of the gate activating. Rising from his chair, John bolted out of the office and was racing down the stairs. Before he could ask one of the techs shouted,

"It's Major Lorne's IDC."

"She's early," John commented, as Beckett joined him. He wasn't sure how he felt about that fact. Relieved on the one hand, yet his spidey senses were tingling. John tried to ignore it, his eyes focused on the liquid puddle before him. A moment later Lorne stepped through, followed by four marines. One of them was carrying Teyla. That set John in motion. He ran over to check on Teyla, Beckett allowing him to touch her face, to feel her warmth, before pushing him aside. John allowed it because he realized something. Elizabeth was missing. Cold fear twisted in his gut as he turned to Lorne. "Where is she?"

Lorne looked angry and upset and his voice was as tight as his expression as he replied, "She was taken, sir."

John blinked at that then snapped, "What do you mean, taken?"

"Long story short," Lorne countered, making it a question. When John nodded he continued. "Doctor Weir and Teyla joined Veesa, the head priestess, for negotiations. Very private negotiations. My men and myself were allowed to remain at the perimeter of the temple. The Pyrdians were nice enough. Curious about us even. They offered us food and water, and a decent place to sleep. That night Doctor Weir came out and told us everything was going well, then she returned to the temple where she and Teyla spent the night. This morning we all joined together for breakfast then Teyla and Doctor Weir, once again returned to the temple. After a while I realized we were alone, that there were no other Pyrdians bustling around. I went in to check and there was no one to stop me. Teyla was inside the temple, unconscious. I couldn't wake her up. One of my men stayed with her and the rest of us checked the temple. There was a back way out. The Pyrdians were gone and so was Doctor Weir."

"So you just came back here without her?" John challenged, and he was hard put not to shout at the man. Now was so not the time for Elizabeth to go missing.

Lorne shook his head. "No, I did not." He spoke in a clipped and precise tone that edged towards being just a bit disrespectful.

John heard it but let it go. "Then what did you do?" he prompted.

"We started searching for tracks to follow, but I'm not a tracker. I thought maybe if Teyla woke up she could help us." Lorne held up a hand before John could ask. "She woke up but was groggy and uncertain of what had happened. I then made the decision to return and regroup. I figure on heading back with Ronon."

"Good idea," John responded. He knew if anyone would be able to track Elizabeth, it would be Ronon. Rubbing a hand over his face, John took a moment to decide what orders to give. He watched as Carson and the marine cradling Teyla headed off to the infirmary. He hoped she would be okay and that she would wake up soon and be able to tell them what happened. Swallowing a sigh, John turned back to Lorne. "I've got some bad news, Major," he stated.

Lorne looked disgruntled to hear that, but smoothed his face into a neutral expression before prompting, "What bad news?"

John almost didn't want to tell. A part of him wanted to believe that if he didn't say it out loud, then it wouldn't happen. But he knew better so he replied, reluctantly, "There are Hive ships on their way to Atlantis."

"What?" Lorne couldn't hide his surprise. "How many ships and how soon will they get here?"

"Three ships, two weeks," John answered. Before Lorne could say anything, he waved a hand and continued. "I want you to clean up, take a few hours to rest and check in with Beckett. I'll contact Ronon and fill him in. Get with him later and decide who to take with you."

Lorne looked like he wanted to say something, maybe protest having to wait a few hours, but he studied John a moment then nodded. "Yes, Sir." With that he turned and walked off, his men trailing behind him. John watched them go then headed off himself. To find Ronon.

OoO

After finding the runner and filling him in, John headed for the infirmary. He was relieved to find Teyla awake and sitting up. She smiled as he approached, but it was a grim smile. "How are you feeling?" he asked, as he reached her.

"I am well," Teyla said, firmly, and her eyes darted to Beckett as if daring him to disagree.

"Can you tell me what happened?" John prompted, when the good doc remained silent.

Teyla grimaced, looking upset, but then she shook herself a bit and locked eyes with John. "We drank with the high Priestess, Veesa, in honor of our new bond. The next thing I know I feel sick and dizzy and everything went black. I had no idea they would betray us like this. They seemed to be sincere during the negotiations and eager to be friends with us."

That wasn't what John wanted to hear. "So you have no idea why they took Elizabeth, or where?"

"No, I do not." Anger twisted Teyla's face. "I know that you will send a team to find her and I wish to go along."

"I don't think that's a good idea," Carson interrupted. "Whatever drug they gave you, it knocked you for a loop, Luv. You need time to recover."

Teyla turned a burning glare on Beckett as she slid off the gurney. "I am fine and I am going. I need to go." As she spoke she turned to John.

He knew she was asking for his permission. "Are you sure you feel up to it?" John countered, because he really did want her to go. Teyla was a good tracker in her own right and having spent time with Pyrdians, she would have a better idea than anyone how to track them.

"I will be fine," Teyla insisted.

"Okay...get cleaned up and ready, I'll let Lorne know you're going." John glanced at Beckett, seeing that the doc was getting ready to protest. John shook his head. "Look...we're under the gun," he stated. "With the Wraith coming we need Elizabeth back ASAP." John didn't let himself think that she might already be dead. He figured the Pyrdians would have killed her on the spot, Teyla too, if that was their intention.

Teyla touched John's arm. "Dr. Beckett told me about the Wraith. Do you have a plan?"

John made a face. "Nothing definite, but McKay and Zelenka are bouncing around ideas. Plus I contacted Caldwell before coming here and he said they'll be here in three days, maybe less."

"You will figure something out," Teyla said, with certainty. Then she smiled before turning on her heel and exiting the room.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Carson asked suddenly.

Startled, John dropped his hand. The one who's fingers had been rubbing his temple and tried not to look guilty. "I'm good, all things considered, "he drawled. "You?"

Carson was not amused and it showed. "When was the last time you ate?" he queried.

"You know what, I was just on my way to grab a bite," John lied, even as he turned and tried to make good his escape. But Beckett caught up to him, moving to block his way.

"With everything that's happening right now, Colonel, you need to take care of yourself." There was a soft warning underlying his words. "Atlantis needs you."

John didn't want to hear that. He wanted Elizabeth back, large and in charge. Forcing a smile, John said, "I'm good. Really. I'll go eat and then I won't do anything more strenuous than harass Rodney."

Carson's eyes widened in disbelief and his mouth opened for a sharp retort, but just then a nurse came over and informed Beckett that his flu patient, a botanist, was vomiting and that her temperature had spiked.

Which was more information than John wanted, so he slipped out while Beckett was distracted. He actually headed in the direction of the mess hall, only to decide he wasn't really all that hungry. He'd scrounge something later. Instead John headed for the Chair room. As he expected, Rodney and Zelenka were still there.

Zelenka noticed him first and asked if Elizabeth had returned yet. John grimaced then filled them in about what had happened.

Rodney looked stunned. "So she's really gone?"

"She's missing!" John snapped back. He wasn't going to think negatively, nor was he going to allow anyone else to do so. Even if it was Rodney's default setting.

"You are sending someone to find her?" Zelenka interjected, quietly. But he looked worried, and more lines furrowed his forehead than before.

John nodded to him. "Lorne is heading out soon with a team. Ronon is going."

Rodney made a sound like hot air hissing out of a balloon. John and Zelenka both glared at him and when he realized it he huffed a sigh and said, "That's good that Ronon is going. If anyone can find Elizabeth, it's him."

"Yes, yes...Ronon will find her," Zelenka chimed in.

"Yeah...he will," John replied, and he sounded a bit wistful to his own ears. He wanted to be the one to go and search for Elizabeth and, if it weren't for the fact that the Wraith were bearing down upon Atlantis - okay, and the fact that Beckett had not, and would not, clear him for duty yet - John would have been going with Ronon and Teyla, leaving Lorne behind to deal with things here. But he couldn't go and he wouldn't let himself dwell on that, so instead he crossed over to the chair and nodded at it. "Ready for more test runs?"

Rodney grinned, suddenly looking excited. "Actually...we are. I'm positive now that it's meant to do more than just shoot drones."

Zelenka's own face lightened up as he added, "Yes...we have discovered what we believe to be a huge energy generator within the chair system. We just have not been able to connect to it. Or rather, Rodney has not been able to do so. We were hoping you would have better luck, Colonel."

"It can't hurt to try," John allowed, as he stepped onto the platform then settled himself down. The chair came to life instantly and he felt the warm hum tingling through him. Each time he sat in the chair the connection came faster and stronger. Closing his eyes, he searched out the energy that Rodney spoke of and it wasn't long before he felt it, like the crackling prickle of electricity. Drawing into it, John shuddered a bit as he felt it creep over him like a thousand bees crawling over his body.

"Colonel?" It was Rodney, somewhere on his right.

John slit open his eyes. "I think I found it."

Rodney looked thrilled. "Can you download any information to us?"

"I'll check." Which for John meant trying to transfer what he was connected to into data feed. It was a trick he hadn't yet told McKay about. Mainly because there was no way in hell he could explain his ability to do it. It wasn't something he consciously did. It was more something he felt. As if the chair understood what he was looking for and guided him to it, then somehow managed to transform what he was thinking into a reality. Even the thought of trying to explain that creeped John out a bit.

"Colonel, are you alright?"

John started again, this time glancing to his left to see Zelenka eyeing him with concern. "I'm...I'm fine," he said, and the fact that his voice sounded hoarse surprised him a little.

Rodney was pacing on the other side, one eye on the data pad in his hands, the other on John. "Maybe you should take a break," he blurted out. "I've got enough to work with."

"You do?" John hadn't realized he'd accomplished the download already. But he was more than willing to stop for now. His head was pounding, the thudding pain radiating throughout every muscle in his body. Or so it felt. He suddenly wanted to take a long, hot shower then grab a short nap. All of which he hoped to accomplish without Beckett finding out. Rising out of the chair, John glanced at his watch. He'd told Ronon the team would be heading back through the gate in two hours. Which meant just over an hour now. The nap would have to wait. "Let me know what you find out," John said to Rodney.

"Yes yes..." Rodney waved a hand in his direction. He was focused on his laptop now, with Zelenka crowding around him.

For John it was a moment of deja vu and he reined in the urge to shake his head, knowing it would hurt, and settled for stalking out. He made a pit stop at the mess hall and choked down half a sandwich. If Beckett cornered him about eating again, John didn't want to have to lie. After eating he did decide on a quick shower, hoping the hot water would ease the ache that had settled throughout his body.

It did help, but not quite enough. After getting dressed John headed back to Elizabeth's office and downed the last two Aleve. There was still some time to kill before Lorne took his team back through the gate, so John tried to distract himself by reading reports. It didn't work. He left the office and wandered around the control room. For the most part he kept out of the way, but John knew he was getting on people's nerves by hovering over their shoulders. He was just about to head back into Elizabeth's office when he saw Ronon and Teyla appear in the gate room.

Relief washed over John. It was time. He ran down the stairs ignoring the throb in his temples, and moved to meet Ronon and Teyla. Even as he reached them, Lorne and Cadman appeared. John had approved her addition to the team. If they had to negotiate with the Pyrdian's, having an extra woman around wouldn't hurt. Although John doubted there would be much talking going on this time. Not with Ronon on the team.

"Ready to go?" he asked, as he watched Lorne checking his gear. Envy reared its ugly head and John had to fight the urge to yank the major's P90 from his grasp and head for the gate himself.

"Ready," Lorne confirmed. "We'll bring Doctor Weir back, sir."

John nodded. He knew they wouldn't return without her. "Be safe," he said, echoing the words Elizabeth always sent his way before he lead his team off on a mission. It sucked being on the other side this time.

Lorne nodded.

"Dial the gate!" John ordered. When it whooshed into being he gave the major a thumb's up.

"Later, sir," Lorne said, then he stepped through the gate.

Ronon nodded at John as he passed by. Cadman did the same. Teyla smiled grimly then followed suit, stepping into the Event Horizon.

John watched them go, watched as the gate shut down. He remained where he was for a long moment, then he turned and walked away.

He couldn't shake the feeling something bad was going to happen.


	4. Chapter 3

The moment they stepped through the gate, Ronon was on alert. He focused on using his senses. On the sight and smell of the place. His eyes drifted to the ground, seeking out tracks and signs, trying to separate the known from the unknown. But he didn't tune everything out. He heard Lorne call his name and turned to face the other man. "We should split up," Ronon stated.

Lorne looked surprised by that. "I don't know if that's such a good idea."

"Cover more territory that way," Ronon shot back. He wasn't going to argue the point. He was simply going to do it. Doctor Weir needed to be found, and he wasn't going to waste time exchanging pointless words.

"Maybe so," Lorne allowed. "But we don't know what we're looking for and you're the better tracker. I think we should stick together."

Ronon locked eyes with Lorne, seeing the major's conviction laced with worry. There was guilt there as well. "You track what you know," he said firmly. "Follow the obvious trail. Teyla and I will track by instinct. One of us will find her." He spoke curtly, feeling impatient with the need to get moving.

Lorne opened his mouth, by all appearances intending to protest, but instead he nodded. "All right. Keep in contact every hour."

"Good luck," Teyla said, smiling tightly at Cadman and Lorne.

"You too," Laura replied, then she saluted before turning to follow Lorne.

Teyla looked at Ronon. "Which way?" she asked.

He squinted against the brightness, focusing on a point in the distance. Raising one hand, Ronon gestured in that direction. "This way," he said, then he loped off feeling Teyla's quiet presence behind him.

OoO

After watching Lorne and his team step through the gate, John headed for the Chair room again. Zelenka was the only one there. Rodney had gone off to work on something without giving Zelenka any details. "So any progress?" John asked, as he moved towards the chair. He had an itch to sit down and tap into it again. He knew there was more there than they knew. He just had to figure out a way to get to it. Before time ran out. Inside his head John could almost hear a clock ticking away the seconds.

"Some,"Radek replied, absently. He gestured to the lap top screen he was focused on. "Is quite fascinating really, but we have yet to figure out exactly what it means for us."

"You mean whether or not it's something we can use to defend ourselves with?" John countered, grinning as he watched Zelenka pulling at his hair. It stood up in wild disarray and gave him a vaguely Einstein appearance.

Radek nodded. "Yes, that is what I mean."

John had moved to stand behind Zelenka to take a look at the figures and see if anything made sense to him, when he felt something drip from his nose. Raising one hand, John touched it then stared at his fingertips. Blood. Shit, he had a freaking nosebleed. Just perfect. He knew if he got caught with it, Beckett would call him back to the infirmary, John started backpedaling towards the door, pinching his nose. "I'll check back later!" he called out to Zelenka, who simply waved a hand at him in confirmation.

Once out the door, John stepped into the nearest transporter. He made it to his room in record time and sprinted into the bathroom where he grabbed a towel and used it to stop the bleeding and clean the blood off his hand. It took ten minutes. and by then, John's headache was more pronounced. He felt a bit lightheaded and exhaustion was making his muscles ache.

Contacting Gate control, John informed them he was in his room and to contact him if needed. Glancing at his watch, John realized it was a bit early given his normal bedtime, but that he might as well catch some sleep while he could. So he headed for the shower, letting the hot water relax him a bit. Then he dried off, pulled on a t-shirt, boxers and sweat pants, then popped one of the sleeping pills. As tired as he was, John knew he was too tense to sleep without it.

Slipping under the covers, John made himself comfortable and a few minutes later he was drifting into darkness.

The darkness twisted into something else. Into images that left John tossing and turning. Even though he knew he was dreaming, he couldn't control the fear that that spiked through his veins as he found himself trapped in a scene out of a horror movie. He was helpless to intervene as he watched Steve the Wraith suck the life out of Elizabeth from inside the cell they had kept him in. They were on the inside and John was locked out on the outside. It wasn't shielded this time and he wrapped his fingers around the bars, in a white-knuckled grip. He couldn't say a word, couldn't cry out and protest. He could only watch.

Steve kept his eyes focused on John as he fed on Elizabeth, not giving her even an iota of attention. Shaking her as if she were a limp doll or something as she screamed and screamed. Then, abruptly, there was silence. Steve grinned and whispered, "You should have made sure I was dead, Sheppard."

Nausea twisted in John's gut as he watched the aged and sunken shell that had once been Elizabeth Weir crumple to the floor. A nausea that was all too real and had John almost jumping out of bed in a mad dash to the bathroom. He emptied his stomach, which was pretty much empty to begin with, until he was gagging on dry heaves. He coughed so hard it made his ribs ache and John rubbed them carefully as he sat back against the wall. He didn't know how much time passed before he was able to get to his feet and brush his teeth.

He stared at his image in the mirror after splashing cold water on his face. He looked pale and there were shadows under his eyes and he knew that if he didn't pull it together, Beckett was going to put him back in the infirmary and John didn't have time to be off his feet right now.

Heaving a sigh, he stared at his hands, which were still shaking. He cursed himself and the dream. Ever since coming to the Pegasus galaxy, John had dreamed about the Wraith plenty of times. For a while it was pretty much every night. But he had never dreamed about them killing Elizabeth. Hell, in all his time here, John had never seen a Wraith kill a woman. Or a child. And that was something he hoped to god he'd never have to witness.

Pushing away from the sink, John dried his face and tried to figure out why the dream was shaking him up so. And why dream about Steve? The bastard was dead, John had seen his dead body and Beckett had done an autopsy on him. Dead was dead. So why Steve and why now? Maybe he should have paid better attention in his psych courses in college. John had mainly taken them because the teacher, Professor Kline, was hot and they had actually dated for a couple of months. Being careful not to get caught of course. Even back then John wasn't averse to breaking the rules, so long as no one got hurt.

But that was a memory he really didn't need to relive right now. It was a part of the past and John had to deal with the present and the threat to Atlantis.

Feeling a bit calmer, although he was trying to ignore the way his body trembled with aftershocks in the wake of the nightmare, John stumbled into the other room and got dressed. He'd only been asleep for two hours and as tempting as it was to take another pill, John wasn't sure he wanted to sleep right now. He didn't want to dream again. So he made his bed then stretched out with War and Peace. Maybe it would bore him back to sleep without dreaming.

Two hours later John gave up and headed back to Elizabeth's office. His internal clock was ticking louder.

OoO

Lorne studied the area they were standing in. Not all that far from the temple. He kept backtracking back around to it. There were no signs or clues to lead him in any other direction so Lorne kept coming back to the temple, hoping against hope to find something, anything. So far, nothing.

"Time for a break," Cadman piped up, holding up a powerbar and her water bottle.

"Right." Lorne grabbed a power bar of his own and took a bite. He was hungry, along with frustrated. But he didn't sit down on a nearby rock like Cadman did. He kept pacing and sweeping the ground. But there were no footsteps to guide him, there was nothing. Swallowing a curse, Lorne crushed the rest of his powerbar and was about to toss it when something caught his eye. A glitter of silver in the dirt. Falling to one knee, Lorne dug his fingers into the ground and a moment later he was holding an all too familiar object in his palm.

Laura had been watching him and now she was kneeling beside him. "Is that...?" She didn't finish.

Lorne nodded anyway. "Yeah...it is." He closed his fingers over it and rose to his feet. "Time to check in with Ronon and Teyla." As he spoke, Lorne tapped his radio. "Teyla!"

"Yes?"

"Anything on your end?" Lorne queried.

A moment of silence then Teyla replied, "Nothing definite." She sounded as if she were panting a bit.

Lorne figured that she and Ronon were still on the move. "I found something at the temple."

"What is it?" Teyla's voice conveyed surprise.

"Doctor Weir's necklace," Lorne replied. "The chain is broken."

Another moment of silence then Ronon asked, "Did you find anything else? Anything that might give you a direction to follow?"

Lorne shook his head, forgetting Ronon couldn't see him. He cursed himself then said, "No, nothing. We'll keep looking."

"As will we," Teyla said, then she clicked off.

"We'll find her," Laura said softly, as she drifted away from Lorne and started searching the area again.

Lorne nodded as he pocketed the necklace. "We'd better. Colonel Sheppard will be pissed if I come back without her. I don't think he likes being in charge of Atlantis."

Laura chuckled. "Yeah...can't say as I blame him. I'd hate to be the boss of McKay." She grinned at Lorne then moved out again.

"I hear that," Lorne replied, then he moved to follow.

OoO

"She must have put up a struggle," Teyla stated, as she followed Ronon up a low rise. As she climbed her eyes darted here and there, always scanning her surroundings. Something she had learned from childhood.

"Or she tore the necklace off to leave as a clue," Ronon countered, not breaking stride. "She's smart."

Teyla agreed with that. "She is. Perhaps we should turn back and look another way." They had traveled for miles with Ronon never wavering from the path he had chosen, yet Teyla had seen nothing to suggest that this was the way Doctor Weir had been taken.

Ronon stopped now and turned to look at Teyla. "My gut is telling me to go this way." Raising one hand, he pointed below. "There's smoke that way, maybe we'll find someone to talk too."

"Maybe," Teyla allowed. She was beginning to believe that there was no one on this world. It felt deserted, which worried her. For that would mean that Doctor Weir was truly gone. But when she crested the rise to stand beside Ronon, she saw the smoke and hope fluttered inside her. And hope was all they had left. "Let's go," she said, moving out first.

Ronon said nothing. He simply fell into step beside her.

OoO

John took care of every report, filed everything that needed to be filed, got caught up on emails, then he headed for the labs. Rodney was there, looking as worn out as John felt. "Where's Zelenka?" he asked.

Rodney glared at him over his coffee cup. "Sleeping. He fell asleep an hour ago and started snoring so I sent him to bed."

"Did you get any sleep?" John was worried about that. During the last Siege Beckett had been forced to pump too many of them full of stimulants to keep them going. Rodney and Zelenka included.

"Four hours," Rodney replied. He rubbed his eyes then studied John a moment. "You look more tired than I feel. Guess I don't have to ask if you slept."

John made a face. "Three Hive ships will be here in less than two weeks. I don't think anyone is getting much sleep, Rodney. Pretty much like the last time."

Rodney didn't look impressed. "I thought Beckett gave you sleeping pills?" The moment the words were out Rodney looked like he wanted to swallow them back.

"How would you know that?" John demanded, suspicion coloring his tone. Elizabeth would know about it, but no one else other than Beckett. He didn't like the thought of Rodney knowing his personal business. Friend or not.

"I know everything," Rodney shot back, with a flippant wave of one hand. "You should know that by now."

John considered arguing the point but he knew they needed to focus on defending Atlantis right now. When the Hive ships were dealt with and Atlantis was safe again, then John could threaten to beat the truth out of McKay. Or, better yet, threaten to have Ronon do it. "How are you guys coming on the shields and stuff?"

Rodney's face fell. "Nothing new. We need you in the chair again soon. And by soon I mean now would be good."

"Need a rain check," John replied. A part of him was itching to get in the chair, but he had a check-up with Beckett in twenty minutes and he needed to grab something to eat first. Plus he knew that sitting in the chair would wear him down and he couldn't afford to do that until after the check-up. "I'll come by in an hour," John promised.

"Bring me food then," countered Rodney, scowling. "And something chocolate would be good."

John rolled his eyes. "I'll think about it," he said, as he headed for the door. But he'd bring back something. He wanted to make sure Rodney and Zelenka were in tiptop form. They needed to be able to think fast and focus. Everyone's life depended on it.

A quick trip to the mess hall and John managed to eat most of a muffin, swallowing it down with a glass of milk. Then, snagging a mug of coffee, John headed for the infirmary. The sooner he checked in with Beckett, the sooner he could get back in the chair.

Thoughts of the Hive ships weren't his main focus, however. Thoughts of Elizabeth were. John kept waiting, hoping, that Lorne and the others would check in. Better yet, that they would walk through the gate with her. But he knew he had to give them time to find her. John wouldn't allow himself to believe that they wouldn't. Soon Elizabeth would be back in Atlantis and John could hand over the key, so to speak. It was telling, to himself, that he was anxious for Caldwell to get here. That way he could take off through the gate himself. Well, once he convinced Beckett he was good to go.

Which John had a feeling wasn't going to be easy, and he had that thought confirmed the moment Beckett caught sight of him. "Morning, Doc," John offered in greeting.

"Colonel." Carson's response was somewhat stilted. "You're looking a mite tired."

"I've had better nights," John allowed, knowing that lying wouldn't get him anywhere. Not that telling the truth appeared to be scoring him any points either, judging by Beckett's expression. So John focused on his coffee mug and was about to take a sip when it was plucked from his hand. "Hey!" John made to retrieve it but Beckett handed it off to a nurse.

Blue eyes glaring, Carson focused on John. "The last thing you need is caffeine, Colonel. You're having enough trouble sleeping, or have you forgotten?"

John knew it was a rhetorical question, so he didn't respond. He just glared back then sat down on the exam table when Beckett gestured to it. He suffered through having his vitals taken, then his ribs poked and prodded, along with his shoulder. He answered every question asked honestly, but rather curtly. After a time Beckett turned away and began scribbling on John's chart. John watched for a moment then asked, "Are we done?" He really needed to get back in the chair.

"How much sleep did you get?" Carson asked, point blank. He set aside John's chart and moved to face him, waiting for a reply.

"A few hours." John still felt it was best to tell the truth.

Carson nodded. "How many pills did you take?"

John sighed. He had a bad feeling about the exchange going on between them, but he still answered honestly. "Just one."

"Why didn't you take two? You need the sleep." Carson's tone was sharp, but his eyes conveyed concern.

"What I need is to figure out a way to protect Atlantis from the Wraith that are coming! Sleep can wait!" John was snapping at Beckett and he regretted it. Which meant apologizing. "Sorry..."

Carson waved away his words. "I understand we're under the gun, Colonel. All the more so with Doctor Weir missing. But that doesn't change the fact that you're still recuperating."

John scrubbed a hand over his face and mumbled, "I know that." He knew it better than anyone. He knew his own limitations, just as he knew how hard he could push. Right now he needed to push.

"Any word from Major Lorne?" Carson asked.

"Nothing yet." John forced a smile, wanting to ease the tension between them. Tension he knew he had created. "Look...I need to get back to work. Caldwell should be here some time tomorrow and Rodney needs me in the Chair room." A hand on his chest stopped John from sliding off the exam table and he stared at it, then at Beckett.

Carson looked grim. "You're not going anywhere for a while, Colonel," he stated. "Just settle yourself comfortably and you might want to be removing your boots."

John stared at the doc as if he'd suddenly grown two heads. "Why would I want to remove my boots?" He knew what Beckett was suggesting, but he wanted to hear it out loud so he could protest it properly.

"I'm going to give you a little shot of something to help you sleep...without dreaming." Carson spoke carefully, nudging John down onto his back all the while.

Surprise warred with anger inside of John. He wasn't sure how to respond to that. He felt unsettled by the fact that Beckett could read him so well. Which meant he was broadcasting too much. Which was a sure sign of just how tired he really was. Cursing himself, John let Beckett push him down against the pillows. If he couldn't keep control over himself, then he needed to get some sleep. Maybe this was for the best. "How long are you knocking me out for?" John queried, as he watched Beckett preparing a syringe.

Carson swabbed John's arm with an alcohol wipe. "You should sleep for six to eight hours," he replied.

"No!" John felt panic flash through him and he was sitting up, pushing Beckett away from him. "That's too long." They had too much to do and nowhere near enough time to do it in.

"You need the rest, Colonel...or you'll be no good to anyone!" Carson snapped. And it was enough out of character for John to freeze and take notice. A heavy hand fell on John's shoulder. "Once you're rested you can focus better on the problems at hand. You know I'm right, Colonel."

John did know, but he wasn't ready to concede defeat. Not quite yet. "What if something happens and I'm needed?" he argued.

"I can give you something to wake you up," Carson shot back. "Any other objections?"

"Yeah...one. Rodney needs me in the Chair. We might be able to use it more defensively than we originally thought." John was pretty sure he had Beckett with that one.

But Carson shook his head. "I'll contact Rodney and tell him where you are and why. You get some rest then you'll be able to focus. Besides which, with you out for a bit Rodney can pretend he's in charge and that should be amusing."

John winced. "Okay...knock me out." He knew he wasn't going to win this battle. Ultimately, Beckett was the man in charge when it came to any and all medical issues. So he was beaten and John knew when to give up. Besides which, a part of him yearned for sleep. He settled back against the pillows and held out his arm.

"Just a pinch then," Carson crooned, then he was swabbing the injection site before reaching for a blanket.

"Wow...works fast," John slurred, feeling a warm heat flushing through his veins.

Carson chuckled. "That it does."

John watched him spread the blanket over him only to remember something. "Boots..." he mumbled, even as his eyelids drooped closed and darkness washed over him. Vaguely he heard Beckett mumble something and felt tugging at his feet. Then John was swirling into black.

OoO

Lorne tapped his radio and resisted the urge to shout as he repeated Teyla's name for the tenth time. He waited but got no response, just like before. Looking over to Cadman he said, "We've lost contact with Teyla and Ronon."

Laura snorted. "Really? What was your first clue?" She was more sarcastic than snappy.

"We should go back." Lorne wasn't one to concede defeat, but he knew they weren't going to find Doctor Weir and a part of him wanted to be back in Atlantis where he could do some good. The Wraith were coming and Sheppard needed him. The man was running Atlantis and doing his own job and he hadn't even fully recovered from being injured yet.

"Do you think Ronon can find her?" Laura countered, even as she turned back towards the direction of the gate.

Lorne shrugged. "If he can't, then she's lost to us anyway." And that was harder to say than he had expected. Doctor Weir had earned his respect and Lorne couldn't imagine Atlantis without her. Atlantis wasn't about any one person, per se. But without Weir and Sheppard and McKay, Lorne doubted the place could survive. Together those three were the heart, soul, and breath of Atlantis. Lorne didn't want to go back without her, but he knew it was time to go back. To do what he could do. "Let's go."

Laura fell into step beside him. "Ronon and Teyla will find her," she said firmly. "I can feel it."

"Woman's intuition?" Lorne queried, almost managing a grin.

"Something like that," Laura allowed.

Lorne was willing to accept that. But he found himself reaching one hand into his pocket to clutch Doctor Weir's necklace. He prayed to God it wasn't going to be all that was left of her.

OoO

The smoke led to an old man.

Ronon studied him from across the fire. He looked about a hundred years old, all yellow skin with sagging wrinkles that looked etched into an almost pattern on his face. Gnarled hands clutched a walking stick made from a tree root and sparse white hair covered his gnarled skull. His eyes look frosted over and Ronon wondered for a moment if he were blind, only his eyes seemed to track them.

Teyla spoke for them. "We are searching for someone, a friend. Perhaps you have seen her."

"Perhaps," the man allowed, and his voice was surprisingly strong and clear.

"She is not from here and her clothing would be different. She was wearing black and red and she is slim with dark hair." Teyla leaned in as she spoke, reaching out to touch the old man's hand. Trying to connect to him.

Ronon had seen her do this often. Sometimes it was sincere as now, sometimes she did it in the hope of neutralizing a bad situation. But she was taking too long to get the answers they needed. "Have you seen her old man?" Ronon prompted.

The old man looked at him and grinned, reveal a mouth empty of teeth. "I do not always need to see to know," he replied.

"Know what?" Ronon challenged, a bad feeling making his gut twist.

"They take new blood to the mountains, that way." The old man pointed towards where the sun was sinking in the sky.

Teyla touched his shoulder, to draw his attention to her. "Why would they take her there?"

The old man shrugged. "To trade with the others."

"Others?" Ronon snapped.

"Others," The old man repeated. But that was all he offered.

Ronon had no patience for this. "What are they like?"

The old man studied him a moment then said, "Look a lot like you. Big and strong and angry."

"Thank you," Teyla interjected, before Ronon could reply. She gave Ronon a look that told him to back off, then she patted the old man's shoulder. "We appreciate your help," she said, then she stepped away. "How long will it take us to reach them?"

"Couple of days, maybe less. They scatter themselves." The old man went back to stirring the soup he had in the pot over the fire, letting them know their talk was over.

Ronon started walking. When Teyla fell into step beside him he said, "Trade her for what?" He had his own thoughts on that but he didn't want to go there.

Teyla looked troubled. "I do not know, but we must move quickly."

Ronon's reply was to start running.

OoO

John came awake to the sound of voices. Arguing. It took him a moment to identify them as Beckett and McKay. He heard his own name mentioned and managed to peel his eyes open and call out to them. Or rather, croak at them. It was enough to bring Beckett to his side.

"Dammit, Rodney...you woke him up!" Carson groused, before plastering a concerned smile on his face as he turned his attention to John. "Colonel...how are you feeling?"

"Great," John drawled, though it still sounded like a croak. Damn sedatives always gave him cotton mouth. He was grateful when Beckett raised the bed then held out a glass of water. John drained it, and then scrubbed at his eyes with the heels of both hands. "What time is it?"

Carson sighed. "If you're asking how long you slept, just under five hours. Thanks to Rodney!" A glare was directed at McKay who had moved to the other side of John's bed.

Rodney didn't look the least bit cowed. "Forgive me for being concerned about a friend!" he snapped. Then he ignored Beckett to ask John, "You're better now, right? Because we have a lot of work to do."

"I'm fine," John stated firmly. He glared at Beckett, daring him to say otherwise. But they were all spared that when John's radio went off. He realized it was on the night stand and he snatched it up and fitted it in his ear. "Sheppard here."

The gate tech replied, "Major Lorne is returning, Sir. I thought you would want to know."

John shoved the blanket to the side and slid off the bed, fumbling with his shoes. He didn't want to ask the next question. "Is Doctor Weir with him?"

"No Sir." The answer hung in the air.

"Be right there," John stated, and tapped off. He shoved his feet into his boots, gave a look at Carson that brooked no argument, because he was leaving and that was that. Carson didn't look happy but nodded at him and John headed for the door.

Rodney was right beside him. "This isn't good, is it?"

John glared at him. "Don't wish for bad news, McKay," he muttered. Then they were stepping into a transporter and a moment later they were in the gate room, climbing the stairs just as Lorne and Cadman stepped through the Gate. John strode over to meet them. "Report," he ordered.

"Yes, Sir. I'm sad to say we didn't find Doctor Weir," Lorne said.

"We can see that!" Rodney interjected, and got glares from everyone.

John focused on Lorne. "What happened?"

Lorne looked grim. "I wouldn't have come back except we lost contact with Ronon and Teyla. I guess they moved out of radio range. Since we couldn't find Doctor Weir and with everything else that's happening, I figured it was best to come back."

"Yeah...you figured right." John wanted to be out there himself, but he couldn't fault Lorne's logic. They would all have to rely on Ronon to find Weir. "So...no sign of her?" He could at least hope.

"No, Sir." As he spoke, Lorne was digging in his pocket. He pulled something out then offered it to John.

Staring at the silver chain, John felt his stomach clench. He knew it was Elizabeth's necklace. As he took it from Lorne, John studied it closer and he felt his breath catch in his chest. The delicate heart charm was stained with blood. John snapped his eyes to Lorne and the other man nodded. He had seen it. Not a good sign, but John wasn't going to accept what it could mean. Not until he heard from Ronon.

But Rodney was studying the necklace too and he had turned alabaster white. "Oh...that...that's not good. Is it? Not good...not good."

John said nothing. There was nothing he could say.


	5. Chapter 4

Once again, I adore you all for the amazing FB. And :Hugs: to Kodiak for the beta.

* * *

After dismissing Lorne and Cadman, John beat a hasty retreat to Elizabeth's office. He sat down at her desk and laid her necklace down on the surface. He stared at it for a moment, trying to gather his thoughts.

Lorne had asked if he wanted it taken to Beckett for blood analysis, but John had declined the offer. It didn't matter if it was Elizabeth's blood or not. She was missing and they needed to find her. Besides which, for as long as it wasn't verified John could let himself believe that it wasn't Elizabeth's blood. Fooling himself, maybe, but he was going to go with it for now.

Before holing up in here, John had sent Rodney back to the Chair room, then he had sworn everyone to secrecy. Atlantis base knew that Elizabeth was missing, but they didn't need to know about the necklace. It wouldn't change the simple facts and sometimes knowing too much made things worse and John didn't need any more panic spreading. Everyone was already on edge because of the approaching Hive ships.

There was a throbbing ache in his temples that John was finding hard to ignore. Instinctively he reached for the bottle of Aleve, only to remember it was empty. If he wanted more he'd have to ask Beckett for it and John wasn't sure he wanted to deal with the good doc just now. The man hadn't been happy when John had ditched the infirmary earlier.

Staring at the necklace, John realized he couldn't just sit here. He needed to be doing something. Maybe an easy run would help. Physical activity was always good for stress relief and it always helped John clear his head and become more focused. He'd just have to be careful that no one saw him and reported back to Beckett. The man had spies everywhere, or so it seemed to John at times.

Deciding that a run was just the thing, he got up and reached for the necklace when the gate tech stuck his head in. "Colonel Caldwell has just made contact, Sir."

"Put him through," John said, as he pocketed the necklace. A moment later he heard the tech give him the go ahead and John tapped his earpiece. "Colonel Caldwell?"

"Colonel Sheppard," came the reply. "I just wanted to let you know we'll be there in the morning."

John was surprised by that, yet pleased. "You're making good time."

Caldwell chuckled. "Hermiod's not happy but, yes. We are making good time. Any update on Doctor Weir?"

"We haven't found her yet," John replied, reluctantly. "But I have Ronon tracking her."

"I understand he's good at that," Caldwell countered.

John looked up, even though the Daedalus wasn't in the vicinity, as he replied, "Yes, he is." He paused then added, "I look forward to your arrival, Sir." And he meant that. Because the moment Caldwell stepped foot on Atlantis, John intended to step foot through the gate so he could join in the search for Elizabeth. Unless, of course, Ronon found her before then. Which was what John was praying for.

There was a moment of silence then Caldwell said, "Be there soon," before tapping off.

Needing to be doing something, John headed for the Chair room. He found McKay and Zelenka arguing and John walked right over and broke it up. "What's going on?" he demanded. They didn't have time for arguments. They needed to focus on saving Atlantis. Again.

Zelenka broke off, turning to face John. "We are having disagreement," he stated.

"About what?" John prompted.

"About nothing you would understand!" Rodney interjected, glaring first at Zelenka, then at John. "Are you here to work?" he asked, his tone biting.

John considered pushing the point to find out what was going on, but figured he could let it go for now and ask Zelenka about it later. Or not. It could just be a simple difference of opinion and he trusted that one of them would tell him about it if it was important to the task at hand. So he nodded at Rodney and stepped towards the chair. "Any progress to report?"

Rodney looked peeved but shook his head. "Nothing definite." He jerked his thumb at the chair. "Get in."

"Okaaay," John drawled, doing what he was told without snapping back at Rodney. He could see that the man was on edge and he understood why. It was the same for all of them. The Wraith were coming and Elizabeth was missing. Rodney had earned his bad mood.

Settling into the chair, it lit up immediately and John felt himself reclining even as he felt the connection take hold. It was seamless, in a way that made him feel like something was disconnected about him when he wasn't in the chair. He felt himself become woven into what he perceived to be the cortex of Atlantis. It was like a rush, becoming one with her.

"Colonel!"

John realized Rodney was talking to him. He had closed his eyes but now he opened them. "What?"

Rodney looked concerned for a moment, but shook it off to reply. "Can you run a few tests for us?"

That was something new. John hadn't expected them to be at that point yet, but he was willing. "What do you need me to do?"

"See this?" Rodney was holding his laptop in front of John and pointing to what looked like a schematic.

John recognized it to be just that. A diagram of one of the weapons systems connected to the chair. "I see it." John was already tapping into it and he realized what it was. Shielding. It was crisscrossed throughout and over Atlantis much like a spider web effect.

Rodney tapped a red are on the screen. "Can you figure out what this is?"

"It's the directional source, so to speak," John replied without hesitation. He caught Rodney's look of surprise but chose to ignore it. "I can make it work."

"That's what we were hoping for," Zelenka interjected. "The way we've been reading the data, it would appear we can pick and choose what areas of Atlantis to shield, and we can adjust the power percentage as well."

John nodded. "Yeah, I think we can do that." He smiled at Zelenka then closed his eyes, letting himself be drawn into the core of Atlantis. She was like a warm vibration drawing him deep inside herself. John found what he was looking for then asked, "Where?"

Rodney made a choked sound then his fingers were tapping on his keyboard. "Can you shield this section of Atlantis?"

"Sure." John concentrated a moment then opened his eyes. "Done."

"Hold on." Rodney was tapping on his keyboard again and a moment later he looked up and grinned. "It works."

John laughed, feeling a bit lighthearted for the first time. Being able to protect themselves in this way wasn't what he was hoping for. He would prefer the weapon power to annihilate the Wraith for good. But this would do in a pinch. "I think I can fine tune it," he stated, because even as he was listening to Rodney, John was feeling out for more. They needed so much more.

Zelenka was the one who responded to him. "Fine tune it how?"

"I can shield just this room..." He paused, his mind flickering out towards something, then he smiled in satisfaction and announced, "From the inside."

"What?" Rodney looked orgasmic for a moment, then stunned. "Then he shook his head. "No no no...that's not possible."

John was surprised to hear that. "Weren't you the one who told me that Atlantis would be able to do anything, once we figured out how to make her work?"

Rodney grimaced, but focused on one word in particular. "Her?" he shot back. "Is everything female to you in context?"

"Can you harass me about it later?" John shot back. He suddenly wasn't in the mood for Rodney's attitude. His ever-nagging headache was coming back full force, pain throbbing in his temples in time with his heartbeat. He had a feeling he wouldn't be able to focus on what they needed for much longer.

"Fine, whatever," Rodney said, waving a hand at him. "Do your little trick then. Shield the room."

John did better than that. He felt himself melding with Atlantis and then a warm tingling throughout his body, easing the pain in his head for the moment, and he knew it was done. Glancing over at Zelenka and Rodney, he smiled. "Radek, throw a punch at McKay," he ordered.

To Zelenka's credit, he didn't hesitate. He threw a right hook only to jump back and cry out when his hand couldn't connect because of a green force field effect. It was accompanied with a zapping sound and, for a moment, a green shimmery energy formed around both scientists.

"What was that?" Rodney shouted, patting himself and looking scared.

"That's your personal force field, Rodney," John replied. "It should be around me and the chair too." At least that had been his intention. A moment later Zelenka reached out and was stopped by the green shimmer again.

Amazement lit up Zelenka's eyes. "Unbelievable," he breathed.

John had to admit it was that, but he wasn't going to be able to keep it up. So he closed his eyes, reconnected with Atlantis and felt the energy dissolve. He sensed a presence and opened his eyes to see Rodney hovering beside him looking simultaneously impressed and outraged. "Pretty cool, isn't it?" John stated.

"How did you do that?" Rodney was wide-eyed and glaring. He waved at his laptop screen. "You shouldn't be able to do that. We don't have that information."

"But the chair does," John replied. Although it would be more honest to say that Atlantis had the information. He didn't say that though, he was too busy cursing as he felt warm wetness trickle out of his nose. John dabbed with the back of one hand and sure enough, another nose bleed.

Zelenka held out a white handkerchief. "Use this."

John took it and held it to his nose, stepping out of the chair as he did so. "Thanks. I didn't think anyone carried these any more." He tried to make his tone teasing, but he wasn't feeling all that amused really. Not with the pain in his head returning on top of the nose bleed. This wasn't turning out to be one of his better days.

"Habit," Radek replied. "From my Grandmother."

"I'm calling Beckett," Rodney announced, reaching up to tap his earpiece.

John lunged toward him, but stumbled and he was grateful when Zelenka caught his arm and kept him from falling.

Pulling him over to the wall, Radek urged John to sit. "Are you pinching your nose?" he asked.

"Yes," John grumbled, but he was doing it. He saw the concern in Zelenka's eyes and wanted to diffuse it. "Hey...tell me the truth. The way you and Rodney were going at it earlier, is there something I should know? Problems?"

"Nothing to concern you, Colonel," Radek promised. "Rodney and I are both emotional people. When we get scared we get louder. We are very scared now for several reasons and given that we don't always see eye to eye on things, we are yelling more. It was over something very stupid and very personal."

John could see that Zelenka was embarrassed so he let it go. It wasn't his business anyway.

Rodney appeared suddenly, glaring down at John. "Beckett is on his way and he's very pissed at you."

"You shouldn't have called him," John shot back, but there was no real anger in his tone. His head hurt too much and he was too damn worn out to yell. So he tried to look at the bright side of things. At least now he could ask Beckett for more Aleve.

"You're bleeding," Rodney pointed out, as if John could have somehow missed that. "And you look pale and, frankly, like crap," Rodney continued.

John realized he felt like crap too. So he didn't reply, he just closed his eyes and waited for Beckett to appear. Which took less time that he thought it would. The man must have come running. He was panting a bit as he knelt down next to John.

Eyes narrowed as they studied him, Carson asked, "How are you feeling, Colonel?"

"Like I have a nose bleed," John shot back. He just couldn't stop himself. He let Beckett pull the handkerchief from his face and was relieved to be told the bleeding had pretty much stopped. Too bad he couldn't make his headache do the same.

"What were you doing when it started?" Carson queried.

John waved at the chair. "Sitting down."

Carson made a face at him. "Could you be a bit more specific?"

"He was interfacing with the chair and he was able to create personal shields for the three of us," Rodney interjected, having moved to crouch down next to Beckett. He looked worried when he asked, "Do you think it fried his brain?"

"Hey!" John protested, not liking the sound of that one bit. Not that he believed it, but it wasn't pleasant to hear.

Carson rolled his eyes at Rodney, then he looked at John and patted his shoulder, his voice calm and soothing as he replied, "No, I don't think it fried his brain, Rodney. A nosebleed can occur for a myriad of reasons. So tell me, Colonel, were you prone to nosebleeds as a child?"

John started to shake his head then thought better of it. It hurt enough already. "No. The only time my nose bled as a kid was when I got in a fight. I was ten at the time." John found himself grinning at the memory. "I gave him two black eyes in return."

"How old was he?" Rodney asked, his curiosity apparent.

"Thirteen. He was picking on my best friend at the time." John didn't add in the part that his best friend had been a girl. Chloe. He wasn't in the mood for more of McKay's Kirking commentary. Wadding up the handkerchief in his hand, John asked Beckett, "So what's the verdict, Doc? Can I go now?"

Carson was studying him intently, too intently for John's peace of mind. Then he shook his head. "I want you in the infirmary so I can do a full exam." As he spoke he rose to his feet then he hooked a hand under John's arm to pull him up. Doing so with surprising ease. "And when was the last time you ate, Colonel?"

John winced and decided to fake it. "I had a power bar before coming here." He was pretty sure Beckett bought it.

"Let's go then." Carson was guiding him out the door.

"We need to talk about what happened with the shields, Colonel!" Rodney called after him.

John dug in his heels so he could turn back to McKay. "Contact me later."

Carson got in the last word with, "Way later!" Called over his shoulder, as he hauled John out of the room.

OoO

It was midnight when John gave up trying to sleep. He had spent four hours in the infirmary with Beckett running more tests and forcing him to eat under his watchful eye. The only good part being that the doc had doled out Aleve for his headache and it had faded enough for John to actually doze for a while.

He'd come awake to Rodney's loud voice and managed to convince Beckett to let him go off with Rodney to eat. Beckett had allowed it, only after John promised to go straight back to his room after eating and warning him that he would check up on him and if Sheppard wasn't doing as he promised, he'd be spending the night in the infirmary. So John had taken his time eating, while Rodney had asked a million questions about the shielding and the chair. Most of which John didn't know how to answer. Then Rodney had escorted him back to his room, informing John that he felt it was in his own best interest to do so given how Beckett had threatened him with sharp pointy things at his next physical if Rodney didn't.

After being walked back to his room, John had decided on a long shower. He had then tried reading but he'd felt tired enough to try falling asleep without taking the pills. It had been almost two hours since then and he couldn't get his mind to shut down enough to let him sleep. So John crawled out of bed, grabbed the pill bottle and headed for the bathroom. Once there he shook two pills into his hand and swallowed them down with a glass of water.

Gazing at his reflection in the mirror, John was surprised to see how pale he looked. He looked away from the dark circles under his eyes and headed back to bed. He didn't have time to be tired or worn out. There was too much to do. Including the rip roaring fight he knew he was going to have on his hands in the morning when he told Beckett he was going through the gate to look for Elizabeth. Because the moment Caldwell stepped foot on Atlantis in the morning, and they exchanged niceties, John was heading out to join Teyla and Ronon. With Lorne back on base, John trusted him to keep an eye on Caldwell and Atlantis. Then he could focus on finding Elizabeth.

With that thought in mind, John settled back under the covers and closed his eyes. He didn't even feel himself drifting into darkness.

OoO

Teyla found herself watching Ronon. He was supposed to be sleeping but he was too restless and she knew it. He had dozed for a bit but now he was lying almost too still. She could feel his tension. "Do you think they will hurt her?" Teyla asked. The silence felt too heavy around her now. Heavy and still in the darkness that surrounded them. They had found shelter in the crevice of a rock fall and the nights were warm enough, but it was eerie without light. Neither of them felt it was worth the risk to start a fire.

"The others you mean?" Ronon asked.

"The Pyrdians," Teyla replied. She was hoping they would reach Doctor Weir before she could be traded off to the Others the old man spoke of.

Ronon shifted so that he was sitting up. There was just enough shadow for them to see each other's outline. "She won't give them any reason to hurt her."

Teyla believed that to be true, but she heaved a sigh as she spoke with a heavy heart. "I should have sensed something was wrong. Colonel Sheppard sent me to protect her and I failed."

"They didn't want you to know anything was wrong," Ronon replied. "Blaming yourself is a waste of time."

"Perhaps," Teyla allowed. "But it is how I feel."

Ronon shifted again, rising to his feet and moving to the opening. There were no stars in the night sky. Just miles of empty darkness. "Focus that blame into anger, that'll get you farther," he stated. "It should be light enough soon for us to move out."

Teyla stood up and felt for her gear, shrugging her vest on. "I am ready," she said firmly. And she would be ready to do whatever needed to be done to find Doctor Weir and bring her back home. But Teyla could not help but wonder with the threat of the Wraith coming to Atlantis, if perhaps they were all safer here.

It was a thought that would haunt their journey.


	6. Chapter 5

Once again, I adore you all for the amazing FB. And :Hugs: to Kodiak for the beta.

* * *

He knew he was dreaming but John couldn't shake himself out of it and into conscious awareness, leaving him with no other alternative then to watch the dream play out. Both a captive victim and audience to his own demons.

He was in the gateroom, the event horizon shimmering in all its puddled glory. Standing before it was Lt. Ford and he was holding Elizabeth hostage. A mirror image of when the Genii had come to Atlantis and Kolya had tried to take her through the gate. John knew what to do. He fell to one knee, his P90 held to the ready, eyes narrowed and scoping out his target. A clean hit to Ford's shoulder and Elizabeth would be freed. But he would offer Ford a chance to do the right thing first.

"Let her go, Lieutenant!" John ordered.

"Can't do that, sir," Ford replied. "We both know that. It's never that easy...John."

Hearing Ford call him John made him tense. He huffed out a slight breath to relax, finger easy over the trigger. "Let her go, Aiden," he shot back, making it personal between them. Because it was personal. "Then we can all go home." Wherever home happened to be.

Ford shook his head, looking apologetic. "Can't do that, sir," he replied again. Then he took a step back, dragging Weir with him.

John knew he couldn't hesitate. He knew that time had run out. So he took the shot, aiming for the shoulder. Only Ford knew it was coming, knew it like he was in John's head. He moved like a blur, pulling Weir in front of him and the bullet found its mark. Straight into her heart.

"Nice shot, sir!" Ford called out, a grin stretching across his face as he dropped Weir's limp body to the floor. "Got her in one."

"No.." the word was barely a whisper but it hurt to say, grating on every nerve as John stared at the blood pooling around Elizabeth's body.

It was time to wake up now.

He jolted upright in bed, body shuddering and heart thudding against his chest, his pulse racing so fast he could feel it at his pulse points in wrists, neck and temples. Nausea surged through John as the image of Elizabeth's dead body refused to dissolve from his mind. He bolted out of bed and made it to the bathroom in time to empty his stomach into the toilet.

By the time he was gagging up bile, John felt weak and dizzy and that was while on his knees and clinging to the toilet. He was finally able sag back against the wall and he slumped there, eyes closed, waiting for the room to stop spinning. He reminded himself it had only been a dream and that Elizabeth, though missing, was still very much alive. It didn't help, though, that Ford was another demon John had to deal with. He didn't know if the guy was dead or alive, though he continued to choose to believe that Ford was out there somewhere, very much alive.

After what felt like hours, John was able to climb to his feet. He avoided his reflection in the mirror as he brushed his teeth, then he stepped into the shower and spent a few long minutes letting the hot water soak away the ache in his body. He felt better by the time he got out, dried off and dressed. The headache that had become his constant companion was still aggravating enough that John was willing to risk a pit stop at the infirmary to get some relief.

After strapping on his thigh holster, John was ready for the day. He stepped out of his room and headed for the infirmary. Half way there he bumped into Zelenka, literally, catching the smaller man by the shoulders to stop him from slamming into the wall. "You okay?" John asked, once they were both steady on their feet again.

"Yes yes, fine." Zelenka waved a hand at him. "I am sorry I was not watching where I was going, but this is fortuitous meeting. I was looking for you, Colonel. Rodney and I have need of you in the chair room, to download the shielding schematics if possible."

"I can do that," John allowed. So long as he had time. The Daedalus would be arriving soon and John had every intention of stepping through the gate to go in search of Elizabeth, as soon as he could hand things off to Caldwell.

As if on cue, John's radio beeped and a tech informed him that the Daedalus had arrived and Caldwell was on his way.

John clapped Zelenka on the shoulder. "I'll contact you when I'm ready to get in the chair," John told him, then he was sprinting off towards the Gateroom. He got there just as Caldwell materialized at the top of the stairs.

"Colonel Sheppard." Caldwell was moving to greet him even as John made the last step.

"Colonel," John replied, nodding at the man who was his superior officer. And, for once, John was grateful. "Glad you could make it."

Caldwell almost smiled at that. "Looks like we've got a lot to do. Still no word on Doctor Weir?"

John shook his head carefully, mindful of the ache in his temples. "Nothing yet." He moved to the tech closest to him and asked him to contact the senior officers for a meeting. "We'll be in the conference room," John stated, then he guided Caldwell in that direction.

It didn't take long for everyone to show up. John was grateful for that. Making small talk with Caldwell wasn't easy and until everyone arrived so the meeting could take place, thereby getting Caldwell updated, there really wasn't much John had to say to the man. In fact, the moment the conference table was filled by McKay, Beckett, Lorne, Caldwell and himself, John let the Colonel have the floor.

Caldwell started by asking Lorne about the search for Weir. John let Lorne's reply wash over him. He felt it was pretty much summed up by she was missing and they hadn't found her yet. Then Caldwell asked Rodney for an update on defenses. John paid attention as McKay talked about the chair and the shielding aspects for Atlantis. He caught Rodney's eyes and nodded, imperceptibly, letting him know he'd be down there later.

"Colonel Sheppard has contributed the most to our efforts," Rodney stated, once he had explained everything they had to date from both a defensive and offensive point of view in regards to the chair.

"Can the chair give us what we need to defeat the Wraith?" Caldwell queried, looking impressed perhaps in spite of himself.

John watched Rodney make a face and he decided to speak up before McKay launched into a long-winded diatribe. Because, apparently, Caldwell didn't know better than to ask for the impossible from Rodney without him getting pissed off about it. They didn't have time for ranting right now. "We're still figuring out what the Chair has to offer," John interjected, sending a glare of warning in Rodney's direction, before focusing on Caldwell. "We were kind of hoping you might have some ideas for us," he prompted.

Caldwell leaned forward in his chair, forearms resting on the tabletop, hands clasped. "We might be able to offer a better defense than the last time, and we have a bit more firepower, but not enough to wipe out three Hive ships. But the Chair defenses sound promising."

"They are!" Rodney snapped, pointedly ignoring John's glare. "And if you don't mind I'd like to get back to work. Somebody has to save our collective asses around here!" He was out of his chair and heading for the door before he'd finished speaking.

"He gets cranky when he's scared," Carson offered, as if in apology.

John decided to focus things in another direction but Caldwell beat him to it.

He offered John a grim smile then said, "You've done a good job here, Colonel. Doctor Weir would be pleased."

"Thanks." John was surprised by the praise and he found he felt a bit proud of it, but he shrugged that off for now. He could bask in it later. Right now Caldwell had offered up an opening and he was going to take it. "It's been fun but now I'm more than happy to hand things over to you, Colonel. I'm eager to join the search for Doctor Weir. If anyone can find her, it's Ronon...but I'd like to be there."

"I'm afraid that's not possible, Colonel," Caldwell countered, and his tone was as sharp as his expression.

Carson jumped in on the bandwagon. "The Colonel's right, Colonel," he said, then he looked a bit stymied at how that sounded before shaking his head. A finger followed, waving in front of John's face. "I haven't yet cleared you back to off world status."

John glared at Beckett. "You know I'm fine, besides which this isn't about me. It's about doing everything possible to get Doctor Weir back."

"It's a moot point, gentlemen," Caldwell firmly interjected. "I've been in contact with General O'Neill and he's given me the official order that you, Colonel Sheppard, are to remain in charge of Atlantis for the duration of Doctor Weir's absence. I am to take over as Military head during that period."

"You're not serious?" John hissed. At least he hoped Caldwell wasn't. But one look at the man's face and he knew it was true. To say he was stunned was an understatement. John appreciated O'Neill's faith in him, but it came at a bad time. Still, there were always ways around any scenario and John knew a way around this one. He locked eyes with Caldwell and said, "Fine. Then my first official order is to put you in charge of Atlantis with Lorne as head of military for the time being." John figured that would free him up to join the search for Elizabeth.

But Caldwell was shaking his head. "That's not going to happen, Sheppard. I won't go against General O'Neill's orders."

For some reason John wasn't the least bit surprised to hear him say that. But he had one last shot at changing Caldwell's mind. Appeal to the man's ego. "We both know you're better qualified to run Atlantis."

"General O'Neill believes otherwise," Caldwell countered, which spoke volumes. The man wanted to take his offer, John could feel it. But before he could push his case in point, Rodney piped up from the doorway.

"I agree with O'Neill," he stated as he entered the room and scooped his laptop off from the table where he'd left it. "Besides which we need you here, Sheppard. In the chair." Rodney glared at him, blue eyes blazing. "Or did you forget that the Wraith are on their way?"

John glared right back at him. "No, I haven't forgotten but --"

It was Beckett who cut him off. "No buts, Colonel. I won't clear you for gate travel and you know it, so accept the fact that you're stuck on Atlantis. Like Rodney said, we need you here. All the more so with Doctor Weir gone. She may be the figure head, laddie, but most people consider you the heart and soul of Atlantis and they'll be looking to you to save her again."

"What about me?" Rodney snapped, looking both irritated and scared to death. "I may not look the part of the hero but I'm the one who keeps saving us. Time and time and time again!"

"Of course you do," Carson said, consolingly.

Rodney didn't look mollified but, for once, he let it go and focused on Sheppard. "I need you in the chair, Colonel. The ability to shield Atlantis is going to be our best defense."

John rubbed at his temples for a moment, uncaring that Beckett was eyeing him with concern. A part of him knew that everyone was right, that he was needed on Atlantis. But another part of him wanted to run through the gate, find Elizabeth and bring her back home. Ultimately, he had to focus on keeping Atlantis safe and whole so that Elizabeth would have a home to come back too. Coming to a decision, one he hoped like hell he wouldn't regret in the long run, John looked at Rodney and announced, "We can do better than that." The startled look on Rodney's face was priceless and John wished he had a camera handy to capture it for posterity. Or better yet, blackmail purposes. But he shrugged off such thoughts and explained what he meant. "I think I can tap into a new weapons system. I'm just not too sure what it does yet."

"What the hell do you mean a new weapon's system?" Rodney demanded. "And why didn't you tell me about it?"

"I just did," John pointed out, hoping to avoid an argument. But, no such luck.

Rodney shook a finger at him. "Before NOW! Do you realize how important this is?"

John grimaced as pain stabbed his temples due to the sharpness of Rodney's tone. "Yeah, I do realize how important this is," he drawled. "And don't ask me to explain what type of weapons or anything along that line because I can't explain it to you. I'll just have to show you."

"Fine!" Rodney huffed, then he gestured to the door. "Let's go. Tick tock, Colonel. Tick...tock."

"Dr. McKay has a point," Caldwell stated, before John could respond. "Sounds like you have a lot of work to do, Colonel."

Heaving a sigh, John pushed out of his chair. He felt like he had revealed too much, that he had offered too much hope. He hadn't had a chance to explore his findings further. It could all mean nothing in the end, just wishful thinking on his part. Although John doubted that Atlantis would mess with him like that. He also knew that Rodney was going to give him hell for not sharing this info earlier, but he hadn't considered it worth mentioning until he understood what it meant for them. Only now it looked like he was going to have to pull a rabbit out of a hat. If he didn't, Atlantis wouldn't survive the imminent attack. John wasn't going to let that happen.

He made to follow Rodney only to remember something. He turned to Caldwell. "Since you're taking on my job, keep me informed about doctor Weir, and if you have any thoughts on how we can find her faster, let me know."

"I'll do that," Caldwell allowed.

"Let's go already, Sheppard!" Rodney grumbled, snapping his fingers.

Only to have Beckett glare at him. "Colonel Sheppard will catch up with you, Rodney," Carson stated, and his tone brooked no argument.

Apparently Rodney got the hint and Beckett's glare made its point because he nodded sharply then fled.

John was about to protest, only Caldwell and Lorne were beating a hasty retreat as well and a heartbeat later he was alone with Beckett. John knew he was in trouble by the way Beckett was eyeing him. He thought maybe he could charm his way around it so he smiled at the doc.

"Did you eat?" Carson questioned.

"I was going to but then the Daedalus arrived and I got sidetracked," John explained. And that was close enough to the truth for him to feel comfortable with the lie.

Carson did not look convinced. "Did you sleep well?"

John shrugged. "Not bad. Better than I have been." That was fairly close to the truth as well. Between nightmares he'd gotten a few hours of sleep.

"How many pills did you take?"

"Just one." Why John felt compelled to lie about that, he didn't know. But there it was and he was stuck with it for now.

Carson studied him for a long moment then nodded. "Make sure you eat, Colonel."

John grinned. "Sure thing, Doc. I'll grab something on my way to the chair room." John felt relief wash over him that Beckett was letting him off the hook so easily. He turned towards the door and was almost through it when Beckett called him back. He scowled then erased it from his face before turning back around. He was surprised as hell when Beckett tossed something at him. Instinctively John caught it, staring at the bottle in his hand. A small bottle of Aleve. A genuine smiled curved John's mouth. "Thanks, Doc."

"Just be forewarned that once things settle back down again, I'm running a bunch of tests on you, Colonel," Beckett stated.

"Whatever you want," John promised. He could figure a way out of them later. If there was a later. A thought that wiped the smile off his face. He pocketed the pills, sliding them in next to Elizabeth's necklace, then he headed out the door.

He had a city to save.


	7. Chapter 6

Much love to everyone for the FB and for those of you who help get this story posted.

* * *

The moment John stepped into the transporter, he let himself sag against the wall. He had a destination, the chair room, but he needed a moment to regroup. All his focus had been on going through the gate to look for Elizabeth, but now he was stuck on Atlantis. He knew he was needed here, but he hadn't expected to still be in charge. He really didn't want the responsibility it entailed. He just wanted to do what he did best. Protect Atlantis. It was Elizabeth's job to oversee all aspects and pull things together. He was just a glorified grunt and he liked it that way.

But Caldwell had thrown a wrench into his plans. Okay, O'Neill more so than Caldwell. John pulled himself off the wall and tapped his destination. He hadn't expected to be put in charge, officially. Then to have Caldwell back off on taking over the place. He felt a flutter of pride that O'Neill believed in him, but John couldn't help but wonder if it would turn out to be a misplaced faith.

Shrugging off such thoughts, because they were doing nothing but weighing him down further, John stepped out of the transporter the moment the doors whooshed open. Belatedly he remembered he was supposed to get something to eat but he figured Rodney would have a power bar stashed somewhere so he'd snag one off him.

Two minutes later, John was in the chair room. He was a little surprised to find Rodney in the chair. Not so surprisingly, McKay was cursing. The moment he saw John he got up and started waving his hands at him. "How do you connect to the systems? It's not working for me!" Rodney was practically shouting.

"I don't know how I do it," John replied, keeping his voice low and calm. He grinned at McKay, watching the man splutter at him, then curtly asked, "Got any spare powerbars?"

"I do!" It was Zelenka who replied. He grinned at John and tossed him a silver wrapped package.

John caught it deftly and peeled it open. He wasn't the least bit hungry but he knew he needed to eat so he took a big bite. Then he realized Rodney was watching him. "What? I don't do tricks," John warned. The way Rodney was looking at him was creeping him out a bit. Like John was a bug under a microscope or something. And, great, he had to think of a bug related analogy.

Rodney dug into his jacket pocket and held out another power bar. "Eat them both," he instructed, and he sounded a bit like Beckett in doing so.

"One's good," John replied, only to find the second bar shoved into his hand. He glanced down and noted it was chocolate chip, which he knew to be Rodney's favorite. John narrowed his eyes at the man. "Why are you giving me your food?" he demanded.

"Because you need it more!" Rodney shot back, as he turned to retrieve his laptop. "Hurry up and eat so you can sit your skinny ass in the chair. We have a lot of work to do and not a lot of time to do it in!"

John realized that Rodney was trying to look out for him and it gave him pause. Did he really look that bad that Rodney was worried about him? Not wanting to go there right now, John made short work of the first power bar, stuffed the foil in his pocket, then moved to sit in the chair.

Only Rodney blocked his way. "Eat the other bar then sit," he ordered.

"I'll eat it later," John replied, pushing past McKay. When Rodney pinned him with a glare as he sat down, John gave him a reason for being so stubborn. "If I eat anything else I'm liable to puke it up all over the chair. Or your shoes." He was smirking as he said the last bit.

"Fine, whatever!" Rodney took a hasty step back then focused on his laptop. "Can you download the schematics for the weapon you were talking about?"

John had been wondering about that himself. He offered a shrug as he settled back into the chair, feeling it warm up beneath him as it powered up. "I'll try," he conceded, then he closed his eyes.

Quicker than a blink he was connected. Deeper this time and it was effortless on his part. He didn't have to reach out to Atlantis anymore; he just had to let himself feel her. She surrounded him with her presence before slipping her way into his very soul. John felt a small flicker of panic at letting himself connect so completely, but he knew that Atlantis would never hurt him. She was just waiting for someone to need her. John knew how that felt.

Like quicksilver, John found himself speeding towards something and it felt like flying. Then he was wrapped up in a sensation of warmth. It shimmered through him, singeing his nerve endings and then he realized what it was. Energy. Throbbing and surging and wrapping itself around him. For a moment he felt like he might dissolve into it and panic flared through him, but then he felt the hum of it and it was like music playing softly inside him, easing his fear.

Remembering that Rodney needed information, John asked Atlantis to download it for him and he could almost feel her joy at being able to do this for him. Atlantis felt more real to him than ever before and John wanted to get lost inside of her. He didn't realize how close he was coming to doing just that.

The lights flickered suddenly and Rodney stopped typing on his keyboard. "What was that?" he asked Zelenka.

Radek was looking around then shook his head. "I do not know."

Just then Caldwell's voice came over Rodney's radio. "What the hell is going on?" he demanded.

It took Rodney a moment to answer. He was looking at the display on his laptop, then at the figure in the chair. The lights were flickering harder now. "Um...I'm not sure," he replied. "I think it might be Sheppard."

Hearing his name jolted John back into reality. He realized what was happening and he made the lights stop flickering. At that same moment he realized exactly what he had found. An energy weapon. When he had joined with Chaya back on Proculus, she had shown him what she became when she protected her people. What Atlantis offered to John was something similar but, perhaps, even more powerful. If they could use this energy, he knew they could defeat the Wraith.

Wanting to talk to Rodney about this, John set about disconnecting from the chair. But even as he made to pull away, Atlantis tried to pull him back in and John felt himself spiraling into darkness.

OoO

He came to awareness slowly. Sound filtering in first and a familiar brogue drew John out of the darkness. He managed to force his eyes open but closed them when bright light stabbed into him. He heard Beckett telling him he was going to be okay. He felt various touches on his person and other voices but John let them fade away. The warm darkness was more comforting.

He came awake again, later, to find the lights dimmed and the infirmary quiet. John managed to keep his eyes open and he was relieved to note that his headache was nothing but an annoying throb in one temple. That was something he could deal with. He also felt surprisingly rested, if a bit lethargic. His muscles ached a little when he shifted more upright. That movement gave him the sudden realization that he had tubes stuck in him. An IV in the back of his left hand and a catheter, which he despised pretty much more than anything.

"Colonel Sheppard, good to see you awake, lad." Carson was beaming as he reached the bed. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I have to pee." John gestured to his lap. "Can you take that thing out, please?" He winced as he spoke, his voice sounding gritty and hoarse to his own ears.

Carson hesitated. 'It's been two days, Colonel. You're liable to be quite wobbly on your feet."

John didn't care. "I'll crawl to the bathroom then." In about one minute he would break down and beg. His bladder was protesting the mere act of breathing but John would be damned if he was going to pee down tubing and into a bag while he was awake and functional.

"All right, I'll be right back then." Carson patted John's shoulder then disappeared. He was back soon, as promised, wearing latex gloves and carrying the supplies he needed to get the job done. "Ready?" he asked, eyeing John with concern.

"Ready," John replied, then he closed his eyes as Beckett drew the curtain around his bed. The blankets were lifted and John tensed before following Carson's instructions. His fingers fisted in the sheets as the tube slid out. John took a moment to catch his breath then he was in motion, trying to sit up and get his legs swung over the side of the bed.

Carson gripped his shoulder. "Hang on one minute."

John gritted his teeth. He felt like his eyeballs were swimming. Then Beckett was draping a robe over his shoulders, which John was grateful for, then he disappeared only to return with a wheelchair. John eyed it in surprise.

"It'll be faster for you," Carson explained, even as he helped John into it. "And safer."

"Thanks." John coughed a bit at the dryness in his throat, but he knew Beckett heard him from the squeeze on his shoulder. Then they were in motion and it wasn't long before Beckett had him parked right in front of the toilet. "I got it from here," John whispered, because it was less grating on his throat. As soon as he took care of business he was going to suck down about a gallon of water.

Carson hesitated, his eyes roving over John as if to assess his condition. But then he nodded. "I'll be right outside the door. Call if you need me."

John waved him off then pushed out of the wheelchair. He felt a moment of vertigo before the world steadied around him and he was able to relieve himself in short order. The relief he felt was palpable and it allowed John to assess the way he felt overall. Worn out and a bit weak, but not too bad otherwise. His headache was still manageable and his legs felt a bit stronger than he had first expected.

Wanting to wash his hands and face and get a drink, John turned towards the sink only to feel the IV line tugging on his hand. He hadn't even realized that Beckett had hooked it to the pole attached to the wheelchair. Sneaky bastard. But John was grinning to himself as he thought it, right before he peeled the tape off and pulled the needle out. Beckett could yell all he wanted, but John felt fine so he was pretty sure he didn't need the IV any longer. About all it was good for was making him want to pee anyway.

That done he moved to the sink and washed his hands, then splashing cold water on his face. Taking a moment to stare at his reflection, John realized he looked a bit pale, but overall better. He remembered Beckett mentioning he'd been out for two days, which worried him a bit. But at the same time the sleep must have done him good. Only just then the true meaning of the loss of those two days hit John.

"Beckett!" He was moving towards the door even as he yelled.

Carson ran in, eyes wide, not looking happy to see John looking all worked up. "Colonel, what's wrong?" His eyes flittered over him then narrowed. "You took out your IV."

John waved a hand at him. "Never mind that! You said I was out for two days! Did Ronon find Elizabeth?"

"No...not yet," Carson replied, looking unhappy. "We've had no word from him or Teyla."

"What about the Wraith? Any changes there?" John wanted to curse himself. The Wraith were on their way and he had been out of it for two days.

Carson reached for John's arm, guiding him back over to the wheelchair and pushing him into it when he resisted. "Stay put or I'll put the catheter back in out of spite!" he snapped, when John made a move to get back up.

Staying put, John glared at Carson. "I have a lot of work to do."

"You have an exam to suffer through first, Colonel," Carson shot back, as he pushed the chair out of the bathroom. "What part of 'you've been out of it for two days' didn't you get? Something happened to you in the chair and we need to talk about it."

"Look...it's my own fault," John owned up. "I got too connected and it just...it was too much."

Carson huffed a disgruntled sigh. "I've run tests on you, laddie. Amazingly, nothing appears out of the normal. But being unconscious for two days is a sign that something is wrong."

They had reached his bed and John stepped out of the chair. He didn't want to lie down again but a look at Beckett's face had him crawling back in. He kept the robe on because it made him feel less vulnerable and allowed Beckett to tuck him back. "If it makes you feel better, I feel pretty good right now," John stated. "A little hungry, but good. So I'm fine."

"Since I'm the doctor, I'll be the judge of that." As he spoke, Carson reached for John's wrist and took his pulse. He then checked his heart and lungs, then brought out the trusty penlight.

"See," John drawled, when Beckett was done. "I'm fine. After a shower and something to eat I'll be good to go."

Carson made a face then said, "We'll talk after you eat. For the record, Rodney has been driving me nuts. He wants to talk to you, as does Caldwell. Do you feel up to it?"

John nodded. "Send them in. Lorne too. We'll have a mini meeting, since you won't let me out of here." He made what he was sure was a petulant face as he spoke.

"I'll call them, but I want you to keep it short." Beckett was already reaching for his radio. "In the mean time I'll send for some soup."

"How about a turkey sandwich?" John countered, because he really was hungry and soup wasn't going to cut it.

Carson shot him a glare and walked away.

John settled back against the pillows to wait, letting his eyes slide closed. It was a hand on his arm that woke him and he was surprised at himself for dozing off. Peeling his eyes open, John sat up better and stared at the faces staring back at him.

Rodney looked worried and anxious. Beckett was his usual concerned self. Caldwell looked impatient and Lorne was hard to read. John scrubbed a hand over his eyes then said to Caldwell, "Report." And wasn't that an odd thing to be able to do. Didn't sit right for some reason. And given the look on Caldwell's face, he didn't like it much either.

"Dr. Beckett told me he's pretty much updated you," Caldwell replied. "The Wraith are still coming and it still looks like they'll be here in about a week. We haven't heard from Ronon and Teyla, which means no word on Doctor Weir as of yet."

"Which means it's time for you to tell us what the hell happened in that chair!" Rodney interjected, and he looked like he was about ready to explode with curiosity.

John winced and tried to gather his thoughts. After a moment he replied, "I found something."

Rodney glared at him. "Not helpful. Something what? Something good? Something bad?"

"Something that might be a weapon we can use against the Wraith," John replied. He watched Rodney's expression go from irritated to delighted to skeptical. "What kind of weapon?"

"Like what Chaya used to defend Proculus," John answered, and he saw Rodney stiffen. To this day he wasn't sure why Rodney had taken such a strong dislike to Chaya. She had lied to them about who she was, but she had never done anything to hurt them. In fact, she had saved the life of his team and for that alone John would be eternally grateful to her. Rodney had been less than impressed, overall. But that was a thought for another time, so John pulled himself back into the moment.

Rodney grabbed a nearby chair and sat down. He locked eyes with John. "Are you talking about an energy weapon?"

John nodded. "Yes. And, by the way, sorry about the lights and stuff flickering. I think that was me."

"You're serious about this, aren't you?" Rodney collapsed back into the chair, looking stunned.

"Very serious," John confirmed.

Rodney was nodding now, excitement replacing his amazement. "If you're right we've got a real chance at destroying those Hive ships."

John let himself feel a surge of hope. "I'm right, but there's a hitch." And it was one he was pretty sure Rodney would be able to iron out.

"Of course there is," Rodney huffed. "But I'll fix it. What is it?"

"I don't know how to use the energy as a weapon," John explained, taking in the blank faces staring back at him. He glanced at Rodney who seemed to be pondering the problem. Rodney being the only one who would understand what John meant.

He focused on John. "The chair didn't show you what to do?"

John shook his head. "No. It showed me the energy source and that's about it. There wasn't any information to download to you. I didn't see anyway to fire the energy."

"But you're sure it can be used as a weapon?" Caldwell interjected.

"I'm sure." Of that John had no doubt.

Lorne shifted closer. "I read the report on Chaya, sir. Or should I say, Athar. She was an ascended Ancient, so how can Atlantis have the same power? I mean, it has to be different."

John smiled at Lorne. "It's more raw, I guess you could say," he allowed. "But it's the same energy and it can do the same thing."

"How do you know?" Again it was Caldwell playing Devil's advocate.

"I bonded with Chaya," John replied, without hesitation. It was part of the file. He had been honest about it then and he would do the same now. "I saw what Athar was and I felt that power. It's the same thing. But not being an ascended Ancient, I don't know how to use it."

Rodney jumped to his feet. "Leave that to me. I have some ideas on it." He was waving one hand around as he spoke. "I'll hook up with Zelenka and we'll figure it out." That said he turned on his heels and strode out of the infirmary.

John watched him go then looked at Beckett. "So, what about that turkey sandwich?"

"I'll see what I can do," Carson replied, then he hurried off.

Which left John with Caldwell and Lorne.

Lorne locked eyes with John. "Any orders, sir?"

"Just make sure our men are ready for what's to come," John ordered. "Put them through their paces and keep them on their toes." He knew that most of the marines on Atlantis now hadn't faced the first Siege. If Rodney couldn't figure out how to get the weapon to work, then John wanted to put up one hell of a fight before Atlantis went down in flames. An image that didn't bear thinking about right now.

"I'll do that, sir," Lorne replied, then he nodded and turned away, leaving to take care of his duties.

John watched him go then looked at Caldwell. "Guess it's a good thing you were here to take over," he drawled.

Caldwell almost smiled at that. "Just keeping things together until you're ready to take over again."

"I'll be out of here soon," John promised, more to himself than Caldwell. "The moment I'm free of here I want to get together with you and Major Lorne. We need to discuss specific battle plans." John was actually glad Caldwell was here. Glad they had the Daedalus around. He would take whatever advantages he could get.

"I'll be ready," Caldwell replied. He might have said more but just then Beckett bustled in, carrying a tray.

He set it on the rolling table then pulled it over John's lap. "Eat up, Colonel," Carson ordered. "Then we'll discuss when you can leave."

John grimaced, but reached for the cup of soup. At least there was toast to go with it. The moment he was out of here he'd grab his sandwich. Under Beckett, and Caldwell's, watchful eyes, John took a sip of the soup. Whatever it took to get out of here, he was willing to do.

OoO

It hadn't been easy to stop Ronon from breaking the Pyrdian's neck.

They had captured her with difficulty, but Ronon had been determined. The woman was tall and strong and it had taken both of them to take her down, but Teyla had been determined as well. She had the bruises to prove it. Although some of them had come from getting in Ronon's way.

The Pyrdian refused to give her name, but that hadn't been their interest anyway. She had refused to talk at all until Ronon had broken three fingers. It took breaking five to get the information about Doctor Weir's whereabouts. Getting Ronon to leave the Pyrdian bound but alive had been harder to do.

But now they were slipping into the camp, weapons at the ready. Teyla spotted a red shirt and signaled to Ronon. They moved closer and Teyla felt relief when she was able to see Doctor Weir's face. The woman looked a bit pale and worn, but otherwise all right. She wasn't bound but was sitting near a small fire with a cup in hand. That surprised Teyla a little and distracted her enough so that she didn't notice Ronon slipping away until it was too late.

The Satedan approached the group around the fire, weapon drawn, uncaring that it was six against one.

Teyla cursed beneath her breath then rose to join him. By the time she reached him everyone was on their feet, weapons drawn. There was going to be blood shed and Teyla prepared herself for it. They had the guns against knives and spears and arrows. But to her surprise Doctor Weir stood up and shouted,

"Stand down!"

The bigger surprise was when the Pyrdians lowered their weapons.


	8. Chapter 7

As always you rock with the FB. Thank you thank you. And Hugs and hugs to Kodiak for fixing things.

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Teyla could not hide her confusion as she watched Doctor Weir walk over to Veesa, shoving down the hand that held a knife before whispering to her. Veesa relented and stepped back.

Elizabeth moved forward to greet Teyla and Ronon, a pleased smile on her face. "I was hoping someone would find me," she offered in greeting.

"You didn't make it easy to find you," Ronon replied, his dark eyes roving over her as if looking for injury.

"All I could do at the time was drop my necklace," Elizabeth stated.

Teyla leaned in to whisper, "Are you not a prisoner?"

Elizabeth sighed, rubbing a hand over her dirt-stained face. "I was at first, but it's a long story and one I'd prefer to tell only once, when we get back to Atlantis."

"We should leave now," Ronon said firmly. "It's going to take us about three days to get back, which means the Wraith will arrive soon after we do."

"The Wraith?" Elizabeth looked stunned. "What are you talking about?"

Teyla grimaced, wishing she did not have to be the bearer of bad news. "Soon after you disappeared it was discovered that three Wraith Hive ships are on their way to Atlantis. They will arrive in about seven days."

Elizabeth paled, one fist pressing against her mouth as if to hold back a scream. Then she pulled herself back together. "I need to have a word with Veesa, then we'll leave."

"They won't try and stop us?" Ronon asked, staring over at the Pyrdian with doubt etched into his features.

"No, they won't stop us," Elizabeth replied with certainty. As if sensing his doubt she stated, "I'll explain everything on the way back to the gate." With that she turned and walked away from them, her stride determined.

Teyla watched her go, uncertain of her own feelings. She was pleased they had found Doctor Weir, but she had her own doubts as to what was before them. It made no sense that Doctor Weir was not a prisoner, yet she had not attempted to return to Atlantis until now. Until they had come for her. Teyla hoped that the explanation she gave them would make sense. That it would settle the unease that weighed heavily upon her. "Can we not make it back sooner than three days?" she asked Ronon.

He shrugged. "You think Doctor Weir can run all the way?" he countered. "We could make it in two if we pace ourselves at a run and don't sleep."

"We must be as rested as we can be when we return," Teyla shot back. "We will be needed."

"Then it will take three days," confirmed Ronon.

Elizabeth returned to them, looking grim. "Let's go," she stated, gesturing for Ronon to lead them.

Teyla nodded for Doctor Weir to go next while she brought up their six. She could not help but turn back for a moment, to see the Pyrdians watching their departure. Teyla turned back towards their destination and she could not shake a bone deep feeling of dread.

OoO

John managed, through sheer determination, to convince Beckett to release him from the infirmary. But he did so with the warning that he was going to be checking up on John throughout the day and that he'd better be happy with what he saw or it was back to the infirmary for him.

So John promised to be good, even to the point of confessing to a slight headache and taking some aspirin under Beckett's watchful eye. He then promised to do nothing more strenuous than sit behind a desk for short periods and spend the rest of the day napping. Okay, so he had crossed his fingers behind his back on that one. He had no intention of napping. But John did go to his room, shower and dress, then stopped off at the mess hall for a turkey sandwich. He managed to eat half of it with a glass of milk - doctor's orders - then he contacted Caldwell and set up the meeting with him and Lorne in Weir's office.

Both were already there when John finally arrived. He entered the room with a grim expression on his face, closed the door behind him then seated himself behind Elizabeth's desk. "Anything I need to know?" John asked, focusing his attention on Lorne. He knew the Major would keep him updated on things that Caldwell might presume weren't necessarily something he needed to be informed of, so when the Major shook his head, John was satisfied that nothing had changed. The status had remained the same. The Wraith were on their way and Elizabeth was still missing.

"We need to plan our strategy," John stated, as he settled himself into the chair with care.

"The Daedalus should be the first wave of attack and defense," Caldwell said firmly.

John nodded at him. He had been thinking the same thing. "Hopefully the shielding will hold and we have a big supply of drones now," he added.

Caldwell was looking less than impressed. "That's not going to be enough and we both know it, Colonel," he drawled.

"Right now it's all we've got," John shot back, not taking offense at Caldwell's tone. It had to gall the man to no end to be answerable to him.

"What about the chair, Sir?" Lorne interjected, eyes locked on John's face. "Aren't Dr. McKay and Zelenka working on getting it to use the new energy source?"

John sighed and resisted the urge to press his fingertips to his temples. His headache was acting up again. " 'Working on' being the key words, Major," he said softly. "We have the weapon we need but no idea how to make it work." Which sucked like a great big sucking thing, John thought to himself. But it was typical of their luck in the Pegasus galaxy. He still had hope that Rodney could get it to work somehow. The only catch being that John knew he had to be in the chair to make it work. Atlantis had told him that much. He had just kind of neglected to tell anyone else. Not with the intention of keeping it a secret, but rather because he knew Rodney had already figured that out.

And right on cue John's radio clicked. He tapped it. "Sheppard here."

Rodney's voice crackled through. "Are you going to laze around all day, Colonel? Or are you going to get down here and sit your ass in the chair so we can get some work done?"

"On my way," John replied, then he clicked off and shot apologetic glances at Caldwell and Lorne. "Do what needs to be done and keep me updated," he instructed. He got a smirk from Caldwell and a "Yes, Sir!" from Lorne. John knew they would do what they had to do for Atlantis and that was all that mattered. He pushed out of the chair and headed for the door. One hand slid into his pocket, fingers curling around Elizabeth's necklace.

John sent a silent prayer for her to come home soon. He hadn't realized how much he would miss her presence. He considered Elizabeth to be far more than his boss. She was a friend. Someone who had considered him worth someone. She had taken a risk in bringing him to Atlantis, even though he was sure she hadn't realized it at the time. Sometimes they butted heads, but John had always respected her. Never more so than when she had worked so hard to secure his position in Atlantis. He hadn't felt he'd earned the job. He'd stepped into it by default and even though he'd managed to keep Atlantis safe, John knew he wasn't the right person for the job, even though being in Atlantis and doing what he did felt like coming home.

On the night after he'd been given his promotion, Elizabeth had come to his room at SGC. She'd brought a bottle of whiskey and told him they needed to talk. They'd talked until five am, by which time she had convinced him that he had earned the job. He had convinced her to accept the fact that he had a lot to learn and he was going to make a lot of mistakes. They had made a toast, agreed to face all their mistakes together, as a team, then they'd gone to breakfast nursing hangovers.

He wanted her back home. Where she belonged. With that thought in mind, John entered the chair room. McKay was on him instantly.

"Sit!" Rodney ordered, gesturing to the chair.

So John sat and the connection was immediate. He felt himself melding with Atlantis and he asked for her help. Peripherally, John was aware of Rodney and Zelenka making excited noises and talking to each other. He assumed that meant that Atlantis had delivered the goods. It was hard for him to concentrate. His headache was back full force, making it feel like his brain was trying to push out of his skull. Breathing was starting to hurt.

To John's surprise, the chair disconnected him. One minute he was a part of her, the next he was sitting upright and practically tumbling onto hands and knees. He found Zelenka there, gripping his arm, keeping him steady.

"Colonel, are you well?" Radek queried, looking concerned.

"Tired," John replied, because he knew he had to look like hell so there was no point in denying it.

Rodney was suddenly there, gaze narrowed as he studied him. "You look like shit. Go get some sleep before Beckett shows up and punishes me for keeping you awake."

John grinned at that, because he knew it was McKay's way of showing he cared. It was appreciated. "Call me if you need me," he instructed Zelenka.

"We will do that," Radek promised, even as he guided John to the door. "Would you like me to come with you?"

"I know the way to my room," John shot back, with what he hoped was a teasing tone. His head felt like it weighed a ton and his vision was becoming a bit blurred. But he knew if he could just get to his room and collapse for about six hours, then he'd be just fine.

Radek was nodding. "Yes yes, you know the way. Question is, can you make it without falling down?"

John winced. He should have known Zelenka missed nothing. "I'll crawl if I have too," he replied, sotto voce.

"I will accompany you," Radek declared. "Rodney and I need coffee anyway." The last was said loudly enough for McKay to hear.

"Coffee and food!" Rodney shouted back, not looking up from his laptop.

Radek rolled his eyes then tightened his grip on John's arm. "Come, we go now."

John didn't argue the point, or the hand on his arm. He was pretty sure he would fall down without it. Which bothered him more than a little. He couldn't afford any weakness right now. The Wraith were too close. As they stumbled along, John wished he could turn back time. He wished he'd never agreed to come here. If he'd stayed on Earth maybe none of this would have happened. He wouldn't have picked up Teyla's necklace, activating the signal that woke up the sleeping Wraith. He wouldn't have shot Colonel Sumner. He wouldn't be feeling the weight of all this responsibility. But John was wise enough to temper his negativity with the cold hard fact that if he hadn't come to Atlantis, he wouldn't have found a place he could call home and mean it.

"Colonel?" Radek sounded worried and he shook John a bit. "Are you all right? Should I call Dr. Beckett?"

"What?" John was surprised by the question. "No...why do you ask?"

Radek gestured towards his face. "You have nose bleed."

John touched a fingertip to his face then studied the red wetness that stained his skin. "Shit!" Radek offered him another handkerchief and John accepted it gratefully. "I'm going to owe you a truckload of these things," he commented, even as he pressed it to his nose.

"I have plenty," Radek said quietly. He was watching John with concern. "You have not told Dr. Beckett about nose bleeds." It was more a statement than a question.

"No." John wasn't sure why he couldn't lie to Zelenka, but there it was.

Radek's mouth thinned. "Why not?"

John slumped against the wall, resisting the urge to sigh. He was tired and frustrated and he felt punching something, but he didn't want to take his bad mood out on Zelenka. He knew the guy was just looking out for him. "I can't afford to be out for the count," John confessed. "Beckett would insist on running tests and things. I don't have time for that right now."

"But you will have time later, yes?" Zelenka countered, as he locked eyes with John. "When this is over and Atlantis is safe...you will let Dr. Beckett take care of you."

"Yeah...when Atlantis is safe," John confirmed. Hell, when this was all over he fully intended to take a month long vacation. He never did get one after the Genii incident, when they had invaded Atlantis and he'd been forced to become a one-man strike team. John still had nightmares about that to this day. He could still hear all the bodies that hit the force field, zapped out of existence like flies.

Zelenka reached for John's arm again. "Time for you to rest for a bit," he said firmly.

John didn't argue. He let Zelenka escort him back to his room. Once he was inside and alone again, John headed for the bathroom. He checked the bleeding and thankfully it had stopped. But his headache was still with him so he grabbed the bottle of Aleve and shook out three pills. He swallowed them down with a glass of water then brushed his teeth, stripping out of his clothes and stepping into the shower. Five minutes later he was toweling himself dry and slipping into a t-shirt, boxers and sweat pants. Reaching for the bottle of sleeping pills, John swallowed two then headed for bed. He crawled under the covers and closed his eyes. Within minutes he was wrapped in warm darkness.

OoO

They made camp, but only for a few hours. They ate MRE's then settled around a small fire, hidden within the curved walls of a tiny cave, barely big enough to fit them all. A small opening to the cave allowed them to risk the warming blaze.

Teyla was watching Elizabeth. "You said you would tell us what happened," she prompted.

Elizabeth nodded, shifting to find a comfortable position while trying to ignore her desperate desire for a shower. She could smell how ripe she was. But she needed to focus on other things at the moment. "Long story short, Veesa and the Pyrdians intended to trade me for goods."

"To the others," Ronon interjected.

"Yes, to the others," Elizabeth replied.

Teyla looked concerned. "Did you meet with the others?"

Elizabeth grimaced, remembering big men with sharp pointy weapons. "I met them. They're rather Neanderthal like." At the twin blank expressions glaring at her, Elizabeth explained. "Um...caveman like people. Very simplistic. Didn't talk a lot."

Ronon grunted at that.

Elizabeth chuckled, but sobered instantly. "Anyway, I managed to convince Veesa that I would be more useful as a negotiator. After I managed to get them a better trade agreement with the others, she agreed to let me go. They were planning on escorting me back to the gate in the morning, but then you two showed up."

"We are pleased you were not hurt," Teyla said, her sincerity evident in her tone.

"I'm pretty pleased about that myself," Elizabeth allowed. She shifted again, moving to lie down. She knew they all needed to sleep before they started out again. "How is Colonel Sheppard doing?" she asked. Although she was certain he was taking good care of Atlantis, she was more concerned about him in a physical sense. He hadn't been fully recovered when she'd left.

Ronon answered. "He's worried about you, but doing what has to be done."

Elizabeth was pleased by that answer. That was the Sheppard she knew, the man she could trust to get the job done. No matter what the odds were against him. "If anyone can find a way to beat the Wraith, it will be Sheppard," she stated.

"And Dr. McKay," Teyla added, with a smile.

"Yes." Elizabeth managed a tired smile back. "They make an unbeatable team."

Ronon stoked the fire then said, "Sleep. We leave in three hours."

Elizabeth watched him settle in to keep watch over them. She wanted to argue that he should get some sleep too, but she trusted Ronon to do the right thing as well. Sheppard had picked a good team. So she let her eyes drift shut, letting sleep claim her.


	9. Chapter 8

Thanks to everyone. Some for posting for me. Other's for the beta-ing they do and the rest of you for the awesome reviews. :Smooches to everyone:

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John came awake with a jolt, head aching, heart thudding hard in his chest, his skin slicked in a cold sweat. The images of yet another nightmare lingered in his mind and he wished he had some way to scrub them out. He reminded himself that his suicide run during the Siege had ended with the Daedalus's timely arrival and that Atlantis had been saved. But in his dream he had released the nuke from his puddle Jumper and had destroyed Atlantis.

Glancing at his watch, it made John cringe to see that he had only been asleep for two hours. Obviously the sleeping pills weren't working, and neither was the Aleve. Pressing his fingertips to his throbbing temples, John eased out of bed. He was shivering from the cold dampness of his own sweat, his clothes sticking to him. Stripping them off, John headed for the shower. He stood beneath the hot spray long enough to wash away the memory of the nightmare. Or rather the images from it. He still felt the horror and the fear that sent tremors throughout his body.

Leaving the shower, John dried off then headed to the other part of his room for warm, dry clothes. He wished he felt better, then he'd risk going for a run. He really didn't want to remain in his room, but if he snuck out in his present condition someone would see him. He knew Beckett would end up finding out and haul him back to the infirmary. So John resigned himself to being a prisoner in his room until morning. Which meant if he slipped out at 5am, he still had five hours to kill. Sighing as he pulled on boxers and sweat pants, John wished he didn't feel so lethargic. But what was worse was the jittery feeling he couldn't shake. The anxiety that rippled through him.

Yanking open his t-shirt drawer, John pulled out a gray one from the bottom of the pile and with it came a drawstring bag that landed on the floor. Scooping it up, it took him a moment to remember what it was. A smile curved his lips as John remembered M4X-221. They had made friends there. Beckett had even come for a visit and to talk to Rala, the medicine woman. She had been tiny and lined and looked about 150 years old, but she had been sharp as a tack and John had enjoyed her company. At the end of their visit they had been invited back, anytime, and Rala had pulled him off to the side to give him the bag.

She told John it contained an herb called Shuloc and that if he put one leaf in a cup of tea, every day, he would find peace of body and mind. After thanking her, John had tucked it into his vest, then tossed it in his t-shirt drawer. That had been over four months ago. He pulled the t-shirt on and was about to put the bag back when he decided it wouldn't hurt to make a cup of tea. He could try and relax with it while reading his book.

Closing the drawer, but with the bag still in hand, John went over to the corner table. He had a hot plate set up and he went about making himself a cup of tea. Pretty much everyone had one in their rooms now, ever since Zelenka had figured out how to connect them to the Ancient tech. John brewed a cup of plain tea and once it was steaming he opened the bag and took out a Shuloc leaf. It was tiny and blue and he dropped it into the cup. It appeared to dissolve immediately. Unplugging the hot pot, John took his tea back to the bed, rearranged the covers, then settled himself comfortably. Taking a sip of the tea, he realized the herb was tasteless. With a shrug he reached for his book and removed the bookmark from page 83. At least tonight he should make some headway on it during five hours.

But within an hour the tea was gone and John felt himself getting drowsy. It was hard to focus on the words now as they started blurring together, so he set it aside and dimmed the lights with a thought. Only as he was settling himself under the covers did he realize his headache was gone. It was a welcome relief.

Thoughts becoming fuzzy now, John drifted off to sleep. And this time he dreamed of flying without wings.

OoO

He overslept. It was such a rare occurrence that John wasn't sure how to react. As he blinked at the time on his watch, after 8am, he reached for his radio. He was relieved when Lorne reported that everything was fine. John pretended not to notice that Lorne sounded odd. He knew it was in reaction to his own anxiety. But once he knew everything was fine - other than the fact that Elizabeth was still missing and the Wraith were still on their way - John felt the anxiety ebb away. He felt surprisingly good. His headache was still gone and for the first time in a long time he felt rested.

Sliding out of bed, John took a moment to straighten the blankets, then he headed for the bathroom. He emptied his bladder and took a shower, shaved and got dressed. He was strapping on his thigh holster when his eyes fell on the bag of Shuloc herbs. Deciding that it couldn't hurt to have another cup, John plugged in the hot pot. He tied around his room while it steeped then swallowed it down while checking updates on his lap top, feeling a sense of warm well being as he drained the cup to the dregs.

John was beginning to believe that Rala's herb was medicinal in nature. That she had been right when she told him he'd feel better in body and mind. The stuff was better than Aleve. Being able to sleep without pain or nightmares had gone a long way in helping John feel better.

Shutting down his laptop, John rinsed his mug, put the bag of Shuloc back in the drawer then headed out of his room. He was starving so his first stop was the mess hall. After grabbing what passed for pancakes, he sat down at a corner table and started eating. He was halfway through the pile when Beckett suddenly appeared beside him. "Doc," John offered in greeting.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Carson queried, his eyes roving over John. "You look decidedly better this morning." He seemed pleased at that.

"I'm feeling better," John allowed as he set down his fork. Apparently his eyes were bigger than his stomach. He gestured to the chair across from him. "Want to sit?"

Carson nodded then sat down. He was still eyeing John carefully. "So I take it the sleeping pills are working?"

John started to tell him no but swallowed it down and said instead, "Seem to be." He wasn't sure why he was lying about it, why he didn't want to tell Beckett about the Shuloc.

"And the headache? Still with you?" Carson was asking.

"It's gone," John said, and it felt wonderful to say that and mean it.

Narrowing his gaze, Carson gave John an intense look, then he visibly relaxed and nodded. "Yes, I can tell. You really do look much better."

John chuckled. "A good night's sleep works wonders."

"Just keep taking the pills for a few nights," Carson advised. "If you stop too soon you'll feel the adverse effects of it."

"Sure," John replied, knowing that he wasn't going to touch the pills. They hadn't helped him one bit. In fact, he was starting to wonder if maybe his nightmares had been so bad because of them. Maybe his subconscious mind was more subjective to them when he was drugged up, making him lose control of his own thoughts.

Glancing at his watch, John realized it was getting late. "I'd better get to the office," he said to Beckett. And that sounded way too weird. John had never been an office kind of guy. Never had been, never would be. Rising to his feet he grabbed his tray.

Carson stabbed a finger at his plate. "You really need to eat more, Colonel. A few more bites would do you good."

"I promise to eat a big lunch," John said, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. He knew Beckett would never let up about his weight. Even though, if he were honest with himself, John knew he was under par at the moment. He'd make it up eventually. "See you later, Doc," John offered before turning away to stride over to the garbage cans. He scraped the remainder of his breakfast into the waste bins, then set his plate and tray in the proper receptacles.

A few minutes later John was settling in at Elizabeth's desk. He set to work on a few reports he'd been ignoring, having expected Elizabeth to be back to do them herself. Evaluations. John hated evaluations. To his mind words on paper didn't mean a damn thing. They didn't show a person's true worth. Actions were what mattered, and even a retelling of them didn't put things into the proper perspective most of the time. He knew that firsthand, probably better than anyone. But he trudged through the dozen evals until a knock sounded. Glancing up from the laptop screen, John was surprised to see Caldwell standing there. "Something wrong?" he asked, and it was a rather knee jerk reaction, given the situation they were in.

But Caldwell shook his head as he entered the room. "If you have a minute I thought we could go over strategy."

"Sure." John nodded at the empty chair across from him then sprawled back in his own. "I thought we already discussed strategy," he stated. "Has something changed that I don't know about?"

"Not really," Caldwell replied, his tone a bit sharp. He looked a bit unsettled. "We're counting on the energy weapon from the chair being something we can use to defeat the Wraith. But what if McKay doesn't get it figured out? What then? Realistically, we can't defeat three Hive ships."

John wasn't happy about that particular truth, but he couldn't fault Caldwell for bringing it up. "Then we have to hope the shielding and the drones hold out," he said firmly. He watched Caldwell nod, sensing that there was something else going on here. They had already discussed these options with Lorne and the Major had informed John earlier, when he'd radioed him from his room, that Caldwell had been bugging Rodney and Zelenka about the chair. So there had to be something else going on here. John decided to wait Caldwell out.

He didn't have to wait long.

Caldwell shifted in his chair, looking uncomfortable, then he stood and paced towards the corner, making an attempt to look relaxed. After a moment he cleared his throat then asked, "Have you thought about what will happen if Doctor Weir doesn't come back?"

"Not really." John frowned at Caldwell. He hadn't thought about that for a lot of reasons, not the least of which being that he wasn't going to allow himself to believe that Ronon and Teyla wouldn't find Elizabeth and bring her home. He just hoped there was a home for all of them to come back to.

"You should think about it," Caldwell countered.

John felt himself growing angry. "I don't have to think about it!" he snapped, feeling suddenly defensive. "She'll be back!"

Caldwell looked grim but determined as he faced John down, moving to glare at him from across the desk. "But what if she doesn't? You have to prepare for that possibility, Colonel."

"Then I suppose the SGC will send someone to replace her," John replied. And that almost physically hurt to say. He wondered why Caldwell felt the need to bring this up now. They had more important things to worry about. Elizabeth was coming back so this was a moot point and a waste of precious time. It had the added bonus of getting on his nerves. Although Caldwell seemed gifted in that particular area anyway. Getting on John's nerves just by showing up. He knew they would always have a pissing contest going on between them, even when they were on the same side of things.

"My impression is that General O'Neill wants you in charge," Caldwell replied, his tone as sharp as the look in his eyes. "He's overruled Landry to make sure you stay in command now."

John could see how much that grated on Caldwell. He supposed he couldn't blame the guy. John knew better than anyone that he really didn't belong in command anywhere. Not even here in Atlantis. But be that as it were, he didn't want to think about this now. And really, it was ridiculous to even think about O'Neill putting him in charge permanently. Since he didn't want to have this conversation, John made a show of looking at his watch. "I have to get to the chair room," he drawled. With that he stood up and headed for the door, smoothly side-stepping past Caldwell whose glower he could feel pinned to his back as he exited the room.

John shook it off as he stepped into the nearest transporter. A moment later he was walking into the chair room, seeing Rodney pacing and Zelenka sitting on the floor next to the chair, pulling at his hair. It made him look rather comical and John felt himself grinning.

Radek looked up as if sensing his presence. He scrambled to his feet and approached John. "Colonel, you are well?" he asked, then rambled on before John could reply. "Yes, you are looking much better."

"I am better," John conceded. "How are things going here?" He raised his voice to include Rodney in the question.

"Terrible!" Rodney snapped. "We haven't progressed in the least. And in case you haven't noticed, we only have four days until the Hive ships arrive!"

John moved to his side, reaching out to grip Rodney's shoulder. Hoping to ground him a little bit. John knew that Rodney needed to be distracted from his own fears. And there was nothing more terrifying than knowing you were about to face off with a bunch of life sucking alien vampires. "I've noticed," he said quietly. "We'll figure something out." John patted Rodney's shoulder then moved to sit down in the chair. He didn't see Rodney stare at him, then make an attempt to shake himself out of his mood. John was too busy connecting with Atlantis.

It was a seamless interaction. One minute he was just himself, the next he was a part of Atlantis and she was a part of him. John slid through her, weaving into her consciousness, making it his own. It seemed as simple and obvious as breathing. Without having to form the questions in his mind, John was asking her if she could help him with the weapon. Help him find a way to use the energy that he could feel humming around him. Inside him. He knew there was a way, but he couldn't quite figure out what he knew that Atlantis was trying to tell him.

The sound of his name shook John out of the connection. He remained joined with the chair, but outwardly aware of Rodney talking to him. "What?" John asked, having to shake off an almost lethargy. But it was pleasant this time and his head didn't ache like it usually did. The memory of the tea flittered through John's mind, then he forced himself to focus on McKay.

Rodney was shaking a finger at him. "We need to test the shields," he stated. "To see if you can shield Atlantis completely yet still fire the drones."

"We can do that," John said softly, closing his eyes and making it so even as he said it. He heard Zelenka's gasp of surprise then his and Rodney's excited chatter. Then Rodney telling him to dissolve the shield and John was back into his own awareness, feeling a bit bereft for some reason. He was just starting to weave himself back towards the core of Atlantis, back to the energy core that thrummed against his senses when he heard his radio crackle in his ear.

It was Lorne. "Colonel Sheppard, we have gate activation. It's Teyla's IDC."

John sat up, disconnecting himself without even thinking about it, launching himself from the chair and heading for the door even as he replied. "On my way, Major!" He was running to the transporter, hearing heavy footsteps behind him. He kept the door to the transporter open for McKay and Zelenka. They didn't talk to each other. They were each lost in their own thoughts. John felt like his insides were twisting into knots. He willed the transporter to go faster and suddenly the doors whooshed open and he was on the run.

He reached the gateroom stairs in time to see Caldwell moving towards him. Then his focus was on the gate itself and in that moment Ronon stepped through. John found himself holding his breath as Teyla came next. The knot in his gut twisted tighter but then another form followed. Bedraggled and dirty, but a beautiful sight to behold.

Even before the gate whooshed closed, the room was filled with deafening cheers, applause and cries of welcome home, as Elizabeth Weir stood there, smiling.

John felt a wave of relief that just about threatened to knock him off his feet. Then Elizabeth was turning, seeking him out. He moved towards her, reaching her and seeing the lines of exhaustion on her face. But she was still smiling.

"Colonel," she said softly.

He nodded and replied, "Welcome home."


	10. Chapter 9

My thanks to everyone. The FB rocks. :hugs to Kodiak:. And she who posts these for me since ff hates me. You rock!

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Elizabeth looked relieved but anxious as she locked eyes with John. "We need to discuss what's happened," she stated.

He nodded, knowing she was right, but also knowing first things first. "You need to check in with Beckett."

Before she could respond, Rodney interjected with, "You need a shower too." Then he looked embarrassed, making faces and staring at the floor as he made an attempt to remove his foot from his mouth in true Rodney fashion. "You know what I mean!" he snapped. "I'm glad you're back and all but...well..."

"I smell," Elizabeth said, forthrightly. She looked amused.

"Right." Rodney huffed a sigh. "I have work to do." He gave Elizabeth a look that showed how glad he was to have her back, then he turned on his heel an stalked off, snapping at Zelenka to follow.

Radek did so, after smiling at Elizabeth and whispering something to her in Czech.

John had watched the exchanges with a sense of satisfaction. This felt right. Everyone was where they belonged. Now he could focus on the fight to come. He focused on Elizabeth. "Go see Beckett and I'll get the briefing set up for when you're done. He watched her hesitate, then nod in agreement. John turned to Major Lorne, who had magically appeared beside him. "Escort Doctor Weir to the infirmary," he ordered.

"Yes, Sir," Lorne replied, looking happy to do so.

"Colonel, I don't need an escort," Elizabeth countered, chidingly.

John just arched an eyebrow at her, then smiled. "Better safe than sorry," he said firmly. She had to realize she looked dead on her feet. Not only that but they had just gotten her back and they didn't know what had happened, so on the other hand it was also a security issue.

Elizabeth nodded understanding, but she put up a hand to forestall Major Lorne when he attempted to lead her off. She turned to her left and offered a cold smile to Caldwell. "Sorry that I wasn't here to meet you, Colonel," she stated.

"Understandable, given the circumstances," Caldwell replied. "I'm just glad you're back."

"Me too," Elizabeth said, with relief evident in her tone. She offered a more genuine smile this time then turned back to Lorne. "Let's go, Major."

John watched them walk off, feeling the knots in his stomach slowly unravel. Once they were out of sight he snapped back into focus. Ronon and Teyla were standing off near the steps. They looked tired and dirty, yet somehow satisfied. John knew how they felt. He smiled at them as he approached. "You did good," he told them. "Thanks for bringing her home."

Ronon simply shrugged at him.

Teyla locked eyes with John, letting him know she understood. "You are welcome," she said warmly.

"You okay?" John included both of them in the question.

"We are fine," Teyla replied.

He was glad to hear that. "I want you to get checked out anyway, then get cleaned up. I'll let you know when the briefing is."

Ronon nodded and stated, "I'm hungry," then he headed down the stairs.

"Colonel," Teyla said, formally. But her eyes betrayed her emotions. She was happy to be home.

"Teyla," John replied, offering a smile and receiving one in return. Then she was heading down the stairs to catch up with Ronon.

Caldwell moved to John's side the moment Teyla stepped away. "Do you want me to set up the briefing?" he queried, looking tense.

John could feel tension revisiting his own body. Elizabeth was safe at home, but now they had to deal with the Wraith. "That would be great," John said, and he was rather surprised by the offer. Now that Elizabeth was back, John wasn't in command of Atlantis any more so Caldwell was back to, technically, outranking him. John didn't question it though. "Thanks," he said.

"I'm sure you want to check on Doctor Weir," Caldwell offered, maybe as an explanation.

"I would," John allowed, not looking a gift horse in the mouth. Since there was nothing more to say, he turned and headed down the steps. He reached the infirmary in record time, only to be met by a nurse and told he would have to wait for Beckett to finish his tests. When he asked what tests the nurse informed him they were running scans on Elizabeth. Which he was glad to hear. They had come across too many unexpected things not to err on the side of caution. Not to mention the fact that even though John knew he could be a bit too trusting of the human nature at times, for the most part he was a suspicious man by nature. Elizabeth had seemed fine, but stranger things had happened to them all. John wanted to know for a fact that she was okay.

While he waited he munched on a power bar then took a radio call from Caldwell, informing him that the briefing was arranged and everyone would be there in one hour. John had just signed off and was about to go in search of a bottle of water, when the nurse called him in. John followed her to an exam table in the back, surrounded by a privacy curtain. It had been pushed open and he could see Elizabeth sitting upright, legs dangling over the side, dressed in white scrubs. John was happy to see both her and Beckett smiling.

"So how's she doing, Doc?" John asked when he reached them.

"She's mostly fine," Carson replied. "Nothing that a bit of rest and some fluids won't cure."

John nodded. "Good to hear. What about the scans you took?" He saw Elizabeth's start of surprise and grinned. She should know by now that he always managed to find out everything that was going on in Atlantis. The walls had eyes and ears, if you knew where to look for them. And John knew.

Carson's smile faded. "I was just about to go off and have a look at them. I'll let you know when I'm done, Colonel." And with that he patted Elizabeth's arm, reminded her to do as she'd been told, then he walked off muttering to himself.

"So, are you really all right?" John asked, the moment they were alone. As he asked he let his eyes rove over Elizabeth. She was still dirt-streaked and her eyes were dark with exhaustion. John knew how she felt. He tended to find himself in that condition far too often.

"I've been better," Elizabeth allowed. "And I was scared to death for a time. But I'm fine, John. Speaking of which, how are you doing?"

He saw the way she was looking at him, searching for the truth. So he gave it to her. "I'm fine."

She nodded. "You look better."

"I am. Especially now that you're back." And he meant it.

"It's good to be back," Elizabeth's tone was heartfelt.

He believed her and they fell into a comfortable silence. But after a moment he scuffled his feet, then he blurted out, "I wish I'd been able to go after you."

Elizabeth didn't look surprised by his confession. "I know you would have, if you could. But Atlantis needed you here."

"Caldwell could have taken over, he sure as hell wanted too!" John shot back, and he felt a stirring of anger as he was reminded of the fact why he'd been stuck here. "You're not going to believe this, but General O'Neill gave Caldwell orders that I was to remain in charge of Atlantis in your absence.

"I know." It was said so quietly it was almost a whisper, but Elizabeth was looking him in the eye.

John blinked at her. "Excuse me? How could you know?" But even as he asked, it hit him.

Still Elizabeth explained. "I talked to General O'Neill about the protocol for command should I be injured, unfit for duty in any way, or missing or presumed dead. We both agreed that you're the right choice to take my place under those circumstances."

"You're wrong!" The words were out before he could stop them.

"Apparently not," Elizabeth chided gently. "You did good, John."

He didn't have a witty come back for that one, but he did feel a stirring of pride that she believed in him. Around here that's all any of them really had. Faith and hope in each other. And they were going to need a lot of it in the next few days. Suddenly desperate for a change of subject, he asked," So what really happened out there?"

Elizabeth sighed, rubbing at her temples in a familiar gesture. "I'd rather only have to explain it once, during the meeting. It's anti-climatic actually."

"Speaking of the meeting," John segued. "You have about an hour. Why don't you clean up and get something to eat first?"

"I definitely want a shower," Elizabeth conceded. "Maybe even a power nap." As she spoke she slid off the table.

Before she could walk away, John remembered something. "Wait." He touched her arm and she turned back to him. "You'll want this back," he said, as he fished in his pocket and brought out her necklace. He had taken to keeping it with him since Lorne had found it. A way of reminding himself that she wasn't lost to them, just temporarily misplaced. It had done its job as a good luck piece and she would need it now herself.

Elizabeth's eyes teared up and her hand shook a bit as she reached for it. "Thank you," she whispered, clutching it in her fist. "Once I get cleaned up...I owe you a hug."

John felt himself flush, remembering his shocked reaction to their last hug. By the amused look on Elizabeth's face, she was remembering as well. Thankfully she said nothing, instead turning and walking away. She looked small and fragile, and as John watched her go he felt as if the weight of the world had suddenly dropped onto his shoulders.

They were running out of time.

OoO

After leaving the infirmary, John went in search of Ronon and Teyla. He contacted Teyla by radio and she informed him that both she and Ronon were in the mess hall. So John headed there and somehow wasn't the least bit surprised to find Ronon chowing down. He had enough food on his tray for three people. John was pleased to note that Teyla's tray was already empty. She needed to keep her strength up. They all did. Which was why he had grabbed a sandwich for himself. From this moment on they would all have to focus on what was to come.

"You guys doing all right?" John asked, as he settled into an empty seat at their table. He unwrapped his sandwich and took a bite. It tasted like cardboard, but he swallowed it down with a sip of bottled water.

"Good," Ronon said between chewing and swallowing.

Teyla smirked a bit then looked at John and nodded. "We are well."

John knew he had already asked, but he wanted to be sure and he was glad they were okay. And they looked clean and damp, if a bit exhausted, but okay. So now he had another, equally important, question to ask them. "How about Doctor Weir? Is she alright?"

"Seems fine to me," Ronon replied. He had stopped eating long enough to take a long drink of water. He was still using a pitcher.

"I agree, she seems fine," Teyla concurred. "Are you concerned about her?" she countered, locking eyes with John.

He grimaced and looked away, wondering what to say. "It's nothing specific," he said at last. "It just...you finding her and her being okay just seems to easy." It was never that easy for them as a rule, so John couldn't shake his suspicious nature.

Teyla seemed to understand. "I had my doubts at first," she allowed. "But she was fine on the journey back, just anxious to get here."

"Okay." John was willing to accept that. Teyla had good instincts about people, so if she was certain then he could be certain. He took another bite of sandwich then wrapped it up to take it with him. Or throw it out. Whatever came first. Rising to his feet, John remembered the other reason he had searched them out. "Briefing in about 30 minutes, in the conference room."

"We'll be there," Teyla said.

John nodded then headed out. He spent the next twenty minutes checking on things. Even though Elizabeth was back, he still felt a sense of responsibility until it was officially official. Everyone was smiling, even though the smiles were a bit strained. As happy as everyone was that Doctor Weir had returned, no one could forget the fact that the Wraith were on their way.

Five minutes before the briefing was supposed to start, John made his way to the conference room. Everyone was there, except for Elizabeth. John smiled at her empty chair, grateful he didn't have to sit in it anymore. Instead he took his place to her right and settled in. He took note of everyone in the room. Teyla and Ronon to his right, at the other head of the table sat Caldwell, and to the other side of the table were McKay and Zelenka. The two scientists had their heads bent over Rodney's laptop and were bickering quietly. Oddly enough, all felt right with the world at this moment.

Allowing himself a quiet sigh, John shifted in his chair, feeling a slight twinge in his shoulder. But he wasn't going to complain. The headaches were gone and he still felt focused and energetic. Like he could take on the world and win. Not that the feeling wasn't tempered with the harsh reality that beating the Wraith wouldn't be easy. Truckloads of luck and some trickery had saved their asses the last time. John had his doubts that it would be enough this time. The Wraith knew where they were so going invisible wasn't going to save them. Besides which, it wasn't a long-term option anyway. It also depleted too much energy and they didn't have a spare ZPM hanging around.

"Everyone!"

John was shook out of his reverie by the sound of Elizabeth's voice. He watched her walk to her place and sit down.

She held up her hands before anyone could speak. "First things first. I want to thank Colonel Sheppard for a job well done in my absence."

There were murmurs of agreement that embarrassed John a bit, so he ignored them to say to Elizabeth, "I'm just glad you're back and I'm officially handing you the keys."

"Thank you." Elizabeth's smile was genuine, but grim. Then she clasped her hands in front of her on the tabletop and looked everyone in the eye. "I know you're wondering what happened to me, so I'll get that out of the way so we can focus on the Wraith." She paused to eye everyone again, then she began. "Basically I was taken by Veesa and her people with the intent of being traded to the Others. Who happen to be a Neanderthal type people in appearance. They don't speak much, but they are intelligent. I managed to convince Veesa that I was of more use to her and the Pyrdians as a negotiator. They were running out of things to trade for goods. So I convinced both parties to make better barters and that if they worked together they would be more prosperous as a whole. Veesa was pleased and she was going to take me back to the gate when Ronon and Teyla showed up. Which makes for a rather uneventful story overall."

"It's never that simple when we go on missions," Rodney muttered.

John heard him and quipped, "That's because your negotiating skills suck."

Rodney glared then shot back, "Pot...kettle."

"Boys," Elizabeth drawled, but she looked amused.

"Sorry," John said, but it had been fun to bicker with Rodney for a moment. To pretend for a second that everything was as normal as it could be in the Pegasus Galaxy. To pretend that they weren't facing death yet again. Although he was kind of getting used to that part of things. And wasn't that just pathetic? But he shook aside his thoughts as Elizabeth continued.

She was asking Rodney for an update. "What can the chair offer us?"

Rodney tapped furiously at his keyboard for a moment, then he started talking in his usual rush. "We have the ability to shield Atlantis more completely than before. And I won't even try to explain what I mean by that because it would be all Greek to you."

"I speak Greek," Elizabeth interjected, deadpan.

"You know what I mean!" Rodney blustered, and he shot her a narrow-eyed glare.

Elizabeth hid a grin and nodded. "Go on."

Rodney shared a look with Radek, who had tapped his arm, then he continued. "We have what appears to be an almost unlimited supply of drones. Which isn't to say we won't run out, but we do have a lot of them."

"That's good to know," Elizabeth replied. "What else?" She looked hopeful as she asked.

"We found an energy source," Rodney blurted.

Zelenka shook his head and corrected, "Colonel Sheppard found it. Long story short it is much like the weapon Athar used to defeat the Wraith only we cannot figure out way to use it. Sadly." As he spoke, Zelenka removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes, looking exhausted.

Elizabeth looked intrigued as she turned to John. "Are you sure it's the same weapon?" she queried. "Because I assumed that because she was ascended that Athar was the weapon."

"It's similar," John replied. He wasn't sure what else to say. It wasn't something he could explain.

"How do you know?" Elizabeth prompted.

Hiding a wince, because he really didn't want to explain this part, John drummed his fingers on the tabletop and searched for the right thing to say. "Um...I told you how I connected with Chaya when I went back to Proculus," he began. And Elizabeth nodded because she and Beckett were the only ones that knew the details about that. "Well, I felt her power and it's like what Atlantis showed me. We just can't figure out how to get it to work. But if we could, I know we could blast the Wraith out of existence."

Elizabeth looked thoughtful. "That would be nice to have."

"Sure would." John felt a sudden impatience to get back to the chair. He was sure if he tried harder he would find a way to use the energy.

"So basically we have about four days to figure out how to make it work, right?" Weir asked in general.

It was Rodney's turn to wince. "Um, no. We have maybe three days."

There was a stunned reaction on everyone's part and all eyes turned to McKay.

Elizabeth was the one to ask, "I was told we had four days left."

"We did," Rodney replied. "But apparently the Hive ships have speeded up. They're moving closer faster. We may actually be down to two days."

"So what are our options without the energy weapon?" Elizabeth asked.

Rodney shrugged. "All we have are the drones, shields and the Daedalus."

Elizabeth looked shaken as she leaned back in her chair. She pinched the bridge of her nose with a hand that looked shaky, then she sighed and said quietly, "Then we do what we can." She looked at Caldwell. "Colonel, I would like you to get together with Major Lorne and figure out any and all strategic capabilities we have available."

"Already done that," Caldwell replied.

"I'm sure you can come up with more ideas if you try," Elizabeth countered, and her tone was steel. Then she turned to look at John.

He knew what she was going to say before she said it. It was the reason he hadn't argued the point about Caldwell and Lorne. She wanted him in the chair and he knew that's where he belonged right now. He nodded before she could speak, pushing out of his chair and turning towards the door. "On my way." He heard sounds of scuffling and cursing and he knew Rodney and Zelenka would be on his heels. As for Ronon and Teyla, he trusted Elizabeth to put them to work where they would do the most good.

Five minutes later John was in the chair and plugged into Atlantis, so to speak. Knowing that time was running out and that every second counted, John didn't waste time with niceties. He simply begged Atlantis to help him find a way to use the energy. Even as he asked he felt the vibrational hum against his skin then he was melding with the power, fusing into it and there was a moment of pure panic before John realized what was happening. He was becoming the power and he understood now. Understood what Atlantis was trying to tell him. This was suddenly familiar because he had lived it with Chaya. She had shown him what to do all along.

Disconnecting as much as he could, John intended to explain to Rodney and Zelenka what he'd learned, only to hear Rodney cry out. What hit John was the utter fear in Rodney's tone. He remained connected to the chair but hissed, "What's wrong?"

Rodney looked ashen and his eyes were huge in his face as he looked up from his laptop. "They're here," he whispered.

"What?" John wasn't sure what that meant. It couldn't be the Wraith because Rodney had just told them that they had at least two days.

"The Wraith...they're here," Rodney stated.

John felt his stomach drop. "How is that possible?"

Zelenka looked as stunned as Rodney, but he managed to explain. "A few minutes ago the Wraith blips dropped off our screen. Poof...vanished. Then they reappeared, on top of us."

Instinct made John raise the shields. He needed only a flicker of awareness to do so. Then he locked eyes with Zelenka. "How is that possible?"

"They must have hyperjumped somehow. New technology perhaps." Zelenka was shaking his head.

"This is bad," Rodney muttered, then his radio crackled.

John listened as Elizabeth demanded to know what was going on. He listened to Rodney explain, then the crackle of his own earpiece as Caldwell informed him he was heading for the Daedalus. But even as all of this happened, John heard Zelenka gasp and he was connecting into Atlantis and seeing what was playing across the laptop screen. The Wraith were bombing Atlantis. Sectioning off his thought patterns, John launched a multitude of drones through the shield. He made direct contact, eliminating dart after dart, but they kept coming. They wouldn't stop, nor could they be stopped like this.

Tuning out everything else, John let himself meld back into the energy. He felt himself fusing into it until he was the power. Angry power. So he lashed out with his rage, flinging pure energy at the Wraith. Feeling it consuming them, crushing them, shattering them into oblivion.

Then he felt nothing at all.


	11. Chapter 10

The FB is awesome. Thanks so much to everyone. You make my millennium. And special thanks to Kodiak for the beta. You guys should thank her for too. For making this better.

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He felt restless. Dazed and confused rather summed it up nicely as well. John's thoughts as he meandered his way back to consciousness were fuzzy. He remembered the Wraith. They were _here_. That memory jolted through him, forcing words past a numb throat and making his body spasm in an attempt to move from where ever he was.

"Colonel! Take it easy now, son! You're not going anywhere!"

He knew that voice. Beckett. "Wr-wraith..." John croaked.

A heavy hand patted his shoulder before pressing him back down. "Aye, they were here but they're gone now. You took care of them."

"Gone?" John peeled his eyes open and he was surprised to find himself in the infirmary. He had half expected to still be in the chair. And now he remembered. Feeling the energy, becoming it, flinging it. "They...they're really...gone?" His throat felt dry as a bone so it was hard to talk without choking up.

"Have a sip of water," Carson said, as he held the glass and positioned the straw.

John hated that damn straw. It meant he was too weak to handle a glass. And sure enough, when he lifted one arm, his hand trembled too much to even think about touching the glass. Unless he wanted to wear the water. He let it drift back down as he took an obedient sip from the straw. It felt so good he took a few more, then he felt too exhausted to drink. John felt like a wet rag that had been used till it was ripped up, rung out and tossed away.

Carson was eyeing him with concern. "How are you feeling, son?"

"Tired," John whispered, but then a niggling sensation caught his attention. His bladder was full. Excessively full. Thankfully he wasn't hooked up to a catheter, which meant he couldn't have been out of it for too long. So he had to ask, "How long was I out?"

"Almost twelve hours. I bet you have to pee?" Carson grinned and reached for the urinal.

But John shook his head. Twelve hours was long enough to lie abed. "Bathroom," he said firmly.

Carson narrowed his gaze then shot back, "Wheel chair."

"Fine." John wasn't stupid. He knew he wouldn't be able to stand up and walk there. Not when his legs felt like rubber while he was lying down. So he watched Beckett retrieve the chair then let himself be settled into it, with Beckett doing most of the work. Then they were in the bathroom and John didn't argue when the Doc came in with him. He wasn't happy that he needed help just to stand up, but it wasn't the first time and he could deal with it.

Beckett did protest when John wanted to wash his hands. But he got his way in the end, and managed a glimpse at his reflection. The pale face, smudged with stubble, startled him. He looked like a shell of himself. He felt jittery as well, in a way he couldn't define. John splashed cold water on his face but ended up having to let Beckett wipe it for him while he clung to the edge of the sink. Then he was back in the wheel chair and apparently he zoned out for a bit. Next thing John knew he was back in bed and there was a sting on the back of one hand. He blinked at the IV being taped to his skin.

Carson offered a grim smile. "You're a bit dehydrated and such. No big deal. Just rest now, Colonel. You should be feeling better the next time you wake up.

John didn't want to sleep anymore, but darkness was already swirling around him and he didn't think Beckett had slipped him any drugs. So John let himself drift away.

OoO

He felt much better the second time he woke up. He was only out for nine hours this time. Pushing up against the pillows, John blinked hard to bring his surroundings into sharp focus, then he went to work on peeling off the tape to the IV. He needed to pee again.

"I'll get that," Beckett scolded, reaching John's side in record time. He took a moment to study the IV bag, nodded in what appeared to be satisfaction, then set about removing the needle from the back of John's hand. "Bathroom?" Carson guessed.

"And no wheel chair this time," John insisted.

Carson made a face, but helped him slide off the bed after shoving the covers back. "We'll see if you can stand first."

John was pleased to discover he was pretty stable on his feet. Although his headache was back, throbbing in his temples, and he felt more jittery than before. His first thought was that he needed a cup of tea. But he wasn't about to ask Beckett to get it for him. He'd just have to convince the Doc to release him back to his room. But first things first. John wanted to empty his bladder, take a shower, then eat something. His stomach felt empty, but there was an edge of nausea. He hoped food would fix him up.

Once they reached the bathroom, John stated, "I'm going to shower."

"A quick one," Carson allowed, his eyes roaming over John. "You're much stronger but you don't need to push your limitations too hard, too fast."

"Sure," John replied, agreeably. He had learned, long ago, how to play the game to get on Beckett's good side. He closed the bathroom door, shutting the good Doc out, then he used the facilities before thinking on the water. John stripped efficiently, then stepped under the hot spray. Mindful of Beckett's time limit, he washed his hair, lathered himself and rinsed off. He had just wrapped a towel around his waist when Beckett popped his head in, a pair of fresh scrubs in one hand.

John accepted them with a thank you, pushing the door closed again. He dressed quickly then stepped out of the bathroom. He would do everything Beckett expected of him so the Doc would be more liable to release him when John requested it. Which meant climbing back into bed and he found he was glad to do so. He felt a bit lightheaded and he could feel himself trembling a bit.

Carson reached for John's wrist, taking his pulse, and he looked surprised to feel the shaking. "Are you feeling all right, Colonel?" he queried.

"Just hungry," John replied. He didn't have an actual appetite, but he was positive some solid food in his stomach would make him feel much better.

"I'll get you some toast," Carson said. "Then get some rest. You can expect some visitors soon. Doctor Weir is anxious to know what happened in the chair. To be fair, we all are."

John had been expecting that, not that he knew what to tell them. He wasn't sure he could explain what had happened. He wasn't sure he understood it himself. But he simply nodded then called Beckett back when he remembered something. "Did you get the results from Elizabeth's scans?"

Carson moved back to John's bedside. "Aye, that I did. And you'll be happy to know they came back clean. Nothing to worry about."

"Good." John was relieved to hear that. They didn't need anymore surprises right now. At least he sure as hell didn't. Running Atlantis for a few days then obliterating a couple of Hive ships had been stressful enough to last a lifetime.

"I'll get that toast." Carson patted John's knee then he was moving away.

Alone now, John lifted his hands to rub at his temples, wishing he could will the ache away. Hopefully the food would help. For now he'd rest his eyes.

Which turned into a two hour nap that left him feeling cranky and achy and jittery. He wanted out of the infirmary and he'd asked Beckett about going to his room tonight. It didn't look promising. Puking up his toast ten minutes after eating it had probably hurt his chances. So John figured he was stuck, and he had to pretend to feel better than he did because Elizabeth and the others were on their way.

And just as if his thoughts had conjured them up, Elizabeth came through the door with Rodney, Teyla, Ronon, Caldwell and Beckett in tow. They surrounded his bed and John forced a smile. "Hey, guys," he drawled.

"How are you feeling, John?" Elizabeth asked, looking worried.

"I'm good," he replied, hoping she would take him at his word.

But she frowned at him. "You look pale."

He grinned and snarked, "No sun in here." Turning to Rodney, who was standing to his left, John said, "Maybe you can figure out a way to put in a sun roof."

"Ha ha," Rodney dead-panned, then he waved one hand airily. "Enough chit chat. How did you fire the weapon?"

"Good question," John shot back, offering a shrug. He made a mental note not to do that again until he got rid of his headache. Any upper body movement made his head hurt more.

Caldwell moved into John's line of sight. "It was very impressive, Colonel," he said lightly. "I had just reached the Daedalus when you blew the Hive ships all to hell."

John wished he could have seen it for himself. All he had was a memory of being liquid and burning before everything had swirled into black. "Good fire works?" At Caldwell's nod he grinned.

"What did it feel like?" Ronon interjected.

"Like flying," John replied without hesitation. "Flying without wings." He closed his eyes and let himself remember for a moment. It had been better than flying an F-302, or riding a Ferris wheel, or even freefalling.

Rodney looked annoyed as he shouldered in closer and smacked John on the leg. "But how did you do it?" he asked, impatiently. "How did you make it work?"

John had dreaded this moment because he knew he was going to disappoint McKay. But the truth was what it was. "I don't know how I did it," he confessed. "I just...did it."

"It can't have been that easy!" Rodney protested. "Otherwise you would have figured it out before, when we tried to test it."

"I work well under pressure," John replied, giving McKay a look that asked him to drop it. Which, of course, Rodney ignored.

Snapping his fingers Rodney blurted out, "You must have given the chair directions of some sort. Did you ask it to fire at the ships?"

John sighed, resisting the urge to rub his temples to ease the ache there. When Rodney got excited his voice got higher pitched and it was aggravating John's headache. "I just channeled the energy and flung it at the ships," he replied. And that was the best explanation he could give.

"I think that's enough for now," Carson stated, waving everyone away from the bed. His eyes were locked on John's face.

"We'll come back later," Elizabeth allowed, shooing Rodney off in front of her.

Caldwell lingered by the bed for a moment. "I'm heading back to Earth, Sheppard. I'll see you in a few months."

John nodded, carefully. "See you, sir."

"You did good, Colonel. I'll be giving the SGC a full report to that effect," Caldwell stated.

"Uh...thanks." John was surprised to hear that. Surprised and something else he couldn't quite define. Proud, maybe. It wasn't often his actions got praised, although Caldwell had always been fair enough with him. All things considered. Like the fact they both knew he really wanted John's job.

Caldwell nodded, turned smartly on his heel and strode off.

That left John alone with Beckett. He eyed the doctor then winced. "I know, get some sleep."

"You need it," Carson said firmly, fussing with the blankets, which meant tugging them away from John's plucking fingers and smoothing them out over him.

"I'd sleep better in my own bed," John grouched, even as he scrunched down against the pillows, shifting to get comfortable. But his body felt too jittery to relax. Still he made the effort and closed his eyes, already knowing that Beckett wasn't going to let him leave just yet. So he'd try and sleep to make the Doc happy with him.

Carson finished fussing and patted John on the shoulder. "Can I get you anything before I go? Mind you, I'll be in my office so just hit the buzzer if you need me or one of the nurses."

John considered then carefully shook his head. "No, I'm good." He rolled onto his side, listening as Beckett walked away. Then he made a real attempt at sleep, finally drifting into a fitful slumber after what seemed like hours.

Dreams about Steve and Bob and turning into a bug kept jolting him awake every twenty minutes or so. Doggedly, John forced himself to relax after each nightmare. He forced himself to go back to sleep. It was Beckett who finally put a stop to it, by almost scaring the shit out of him while shaking John out of a dream where he had turned completely into a bug and was killing everyone one on Atlantis. Once he got his heart rate back under control, John was grateful to be awake. He was even more grateful for the shot of sleep juice Beckett offered him. John's response was to hold out his arm.

"This should help you sleep for a good solid eight hours," Carson said, as he rubbed the spot where the needle had gone in.

"Thanks," John whispered, reaching for the blankets and drawing them over his shoulders. He felt jittery and cold and anxious. His stomach felt twisted into knots and his head was pounding. But soon he felt a liquid warmth seeping through his veins, smoothing away the chill. When darkness swirled over him, John let himself be dragged into it willingly.

OoO

The next day John felt better for having slept, but he still felt anxious, his stomach was off, his head ached and he had to hide all of it to convince Beckett to release him. Which took until after lunch as it was. John made good his escape after choking down some soup and half a sandwich. He also had to promise to rest in his room for the next two days and to expect Beckett to come check on him tonight. John was agreeable to all of it, so long as he could get the hell out of there.

The first thing he did upon entering his room was head for the hot pot. As the water heated he grabbed the Shuloc bag. Rubbing his temples as he waited for the water to boil, John paced around his room. He hated feeling shaky and jittery like this. He figured it was the after effects of channeling the energy blast. But no way in hell was he going to admit that to either Beckett or McKay. Both would want to test him like a rat in a lab.

Finally the water was ready and John steeped the tea just long enough for flavor, then he dumped in a Shuloc leaf and raised the mug to his lips. He took a careful sip of the hot liquid, willing it to kick in fast. Three sips later he could feel his headache starting to ease and the knots in his stomach were beginning to unravel. By the time he was finished he felt almost normal again. Just a residual ache in his muscles that a long, hot shower would no doubt wash away.

After taking care of the hotpot, John headed for the shower. He stayed under long enough to wash away the achiness, yet he felt surprisingly sleepy by the time he had stepped out, dried off and dressed in sweat pants and a t-shirt. Sleepy enough to crawl under the covers. More surprisingly he fell asleep between one heartbeat and the next.

It was six hours later when John woke up. No dreams this time, and his headache was still gone. He felt a bit jittery, but he felt hungry more than anything so he exchanged sweat pants for jeans and stuff his feet into sneakers. Five minutes later he was in the mess hall, scarfing down Athosian stew with fresh made bread. Two glasses of milk later and he felt contentedly full and surprisingly energetic. Enough so that he figured he'd make a pit stop at Rodney's lab to see if he could be useful in some way. Only he got waylaid by Beckett. He'd forgotten about the Doc checking up on him.

"I checked your room," Carson chided. "I thought I told you to rest, Colonel?"

"I was hungry so I got something to eat," John countered, feeling a bit defensive. "Or wasn't I supposed to eat?"

Carson looked frustrated. "Of course you're supposed to eat. I'd like to see you eat six meals a day till you get up to par with your weight."

John mock-glared at him. "Don't go there, Doc. I'm lean, not skinny. Just keep repeating it and eventually it will sink in."

"Is that your excuse for refusing to wear pants that actually fit you?" Carson teased, his eyes glinting with merriment.

"Good one," John allowed, and it felt good to kid this way. To feel relaxed enough to do so. To not have the threat of impending doom or death hanging over them. At least not this particular moment in time.

Carson looked pleased with himself. "That said, enough kidding around, Colonel. Come with me to the infirmary and let me have a look at you."

John made a face but fell into step beside Beckett. "If I check out will you clear me for Gate travel?"

"If you check out okay now and the same tomorrow night, then I'll clear you," Carson promised.

"You never give an inch, do you?" John countered. He wanted to argue the point but he knew he didn't have a stand against Beckett. As the Chief Medical Officer, he had control in this area. John knew he had to suck it up and do as he was told. He just didn't have to like it. But he really did feel better than he had in months. Even before his injuries from the lab explosion.

They had reached the infirmary and Carson guided John over to an exam table in the corner. "No, I don't give an inch," he said, solemnly. "And I never will. It's bad enough I have to watch so many people die out here. I won't let anyone take risks with their well being if I can help it. And in your case, I can help it." As he spoke he reached for his stethoscope and slid it under John's shirt.

John flinched away. "Hey! That's cold!" he protested.

"Sorry," Carson replied, although he didn't sound sorry.

John grumbled a bit then did what he was told, wanting the exam over. Once Beckett put his equipment aside, John asked, "So?"

A frown marred Carson's forehead. "I have to admit, I'm surprised that you're doing so well all things considered. But you seem fine. No more headache?"

"Nope. Head's good." John rotated his shoulder then twisted his torso. "Shoulder and ribs are good too. A bit sore but nothing incapacitating in the least. So, will you clear me?"

"I'll let you know tomorrow," Carson said firmly. "Now go back to your room and get some more rest. Doctor's orders."

Sliding off the table, John snapped off a mock salute but tempered it with a warm smile. He did as he was told and returned to his room. He wasn't the least bit sleepy, but he didn't want to ruin his chances of getting cleared for gate travel tomorrow, so he grabbed his book and settled in to read. But within thirty minutes he was bored. Knowing that he really could use the sleep, John slid off the bed and plugged in the hot pot, knowing that another cup of Shuloc tea would help him sleep. It was an amazing little leaf. Giving him energy and focus when he needed it, yet relaxing him and letting him sleep without dreaming when that was what he needed most. Like now.

Slipping into sweat pants while he waited for the tea, the moment it was done he stretched out on the bed with his book. Less than an hour later he was sound asleep.

OoO

John behaved himself the next day. He woke up feeling good and rested. After a shower he headed for the mess hall, then went in search of Rodney only to learn he and Radek had gone offworld with Ronon and Teyla to repair the jumper Lorne's team had taken out. They had taken Lt. Gorrell to fly them. Which meant John was left without anything much to do, other than wander around Atlantis. He was tempted to go to the chair room but Beckett had declared it off limits to him for the time being and John didn't want to blow his chances of getting cleared tonight. By lunch time he felt a bit jittery and restless so he grabbed a sandwich and took it to his room. Once there he made a cup of tea, popped in a Shuloc leaf, ate his sandwich then took a nap. At which point it was dinner time and he ended up running into McKay in the mess hall. The jumper was repaired, although he couldn't really explain why it had shut down to begin with. They discussed it over fake Lasagna then Rodney headed back to the lab to work on specs with Zelenka.

It was time for his check in so John made his way to the infirmary. He was thrilled when Beckett cleared him. For everything. After thanking Beckett, John headed straight for Elizabeth's office. Her door was open and he was about to knock on the frame when he realized she was staring at something with an intense focus. Taking a step closer, John realized it was the necklace he had returned to her.

Turning back to knock softly, John waited for her head to snap up before entering. "You okay?" he asked.

"I'm fine." She answered almost too quickly and seemed to realize it. "I was just thinking about how scared I was." A rueful smile curved her lips as she gestured for John to sit. "I don't know how you do it on a regular basis. How you keep going out there knowing something like that could happen."

"It's my job," John replied, because that was the simple truth. It was the way things were for him his entire adult life. He didn't let himself dwell on it, he just accepted it for what it was.

Elizabeth sighed, slumping back into her chair. "Helluva job if you ask me."

John studied her with concern. "Maybe you should talk to Heightmeyer about it?" he suggested. He knew that Elizabeth had a monthly session with Kate. She kept trying to push him to do the same, but John wasn't one to want to talk about his feelings with a stranger. Hell, he didn't talk about them with anyone. Not family or friends. He didn't want anyone getting inside his head, but he was all for anyone who wanted to talk about things, to do so.

"I might do that," Elizabeth allowed, after a long moment of silence had filled the room. "But I'm guessing you didn't come here to talk about my new phobias."

"I can if you want," John countered.

Elizabeth smiled at him warmly, then shook her head. "But thanks for the offer. So, what's up? You look happy."

John felt the grin spread across his face. He doubted he could peel it off. "Beckett just cleared me back to full duty."

"He said he might," Elizabeth allowed. "I have to admit I'm a bit surprised. You didn't look ready to get out of bed two days ago."

"I'm a quick healer," John quipped.

Elizabeth looked a bit worried, but asked, "So when do you want to go back through the gate?"

John chuckled. That was such a loaded question. "Is now a good time?"

"Why don't we try for tomorrow?" Elizabeth countered, but she was laughing softly. "I'll have something for you then. Nine o'clock briefing."

"Sounds like a plan," John agreed. He realized he liked the sound of her laughter. She didn't do that enough. None of them did. Sometimes it was hard to find something to even smile about. But John was in too good of a mood to hang on to such dark thoughts. Pushing out of the chair he said, "I'll let the team know."

Right on cue, Rodney popped his head in the door and eyeballed John. "There you are. I've been looking all over for you. Carson tells me you're cleared for full and active duty again."

John was impressed. "You're good. I just found out myself."

"Genius here," Rodney reminded him. Then he was waving a hand at him. "Come with me, I need you in the chair."

"Problems?" John asked, falling into step with McKay after waving goodbye to Elizabeth.

Rodney glared at him. "Always," he stated, his tone implying he was less than impressed with John's intellect at the moment.

John resisted the urge to roll his eyes and clarified. "What specifically this time?"

"I want you to see if you can find schematics for the jumpers," Rodney replied. "Radek and I can't find any logical reason for why the jumper died the way it did."

"Maybe it just needs an overhaul," John suggested, and the look he got could have frozen lava. But John didn't let it deter him from his point. "Sometimes there are simple explanations for things, Rodney."

A snort of derision was his replay as Rodney stalked on ahead of him.

John grinned to himself as he strolled along in McKay's wake. Sometimes it was good to be John Sheppard. And now was definitely one of those times. Everything felt right in his world at this moment, and John was going to enjoy every minute of it. Because he knew it wouldn't last.

He wasn't that lucky.


	12. Chapter 11

Everyone who's given FB. You rock. I love you muchly. RL is crazy so I can't reply to it all, but you really REALLY Rock. And extra hugs to Kodiak for the beta.

* * *

John sat down in the chair and it felt like coming home. He hadn't been sure what to expect after what happened with annihilating the Wraith, but he seamlessly slid back into the connection with Atlantis. There was no sense of urgency to their connection this time. All he felt was a sense of warmth. She was glad to see him. He let her know he felt the same way, wondering if maybe he shouldn't be a little bit freaked out by the whole connection thing. But John knew that Atlantis was sentient in her own way. Or maybe he was just projecting his own wants and desires. Either way, she had delivered for him. For everyone. So he thanked her.

Then he got to work. After Rodney snapped at him a few times, John downloaded specs and things for the jumpers. Once that was done he disconnected, not wanting to push things further. Not wanting to risk a headache or any other physical reaction that might call the wrath of Beckett down upon him. Which reminded him about the mission tomorrow.

Rising from the chair, John moved over to the side table that had been set up, where Rodney and Zelenka were now hovering over various laptop displays. "How much of my conversation with Elizabeth did you overhear?" John asked McKay.

"Enough to know we're back on a mission tomorrow," Rodney replied, and he was almost smiling. "I'm rather glad about that," he confessed.

"Yeah?" John was a bit surprised. McKay was not big on danger, and they always seemed to run into bad luck in some form or another that ended up with them fighting, or running, for their lives.

Rodney shrugged. "I sort of...missed it. Sort of," he elaborated.

John understood completely. He clapped Rodney on the shoulder. "Just don't stay up all night. I need you wide awake come morning."

"Worry about yourself," Rodney shot back. "You're the one Carson's keeping an eye on."

"And on that note, I'm out of here," John drawled, beating a hasty exit. He went in search of Teyla and found her in the exercise arena. There were a couple of sets of fighting sticks on the window seat and John moved to pick one pair up, twirling them between his fingers. "Want to practice?" he asked, casually. Or at least he hoped it sounded casual. He wasn't allowed to go back to running with Ronon yet, but John was dying for some exercise.

Teyla had been stretching and she slid out of a split and rose gracefully to her feet. She was smiling as see approached John. "Has Dr. Beckett cleared you for physical activity?"

John grinned at her, feeling a bit smug. "He's cleared me back to full duty, so I'm good to go." Technically he wasn't cleared for heavy-duty activity of the physical kind, but he knew Teyla would expect that and set the level of their practice accordingly. Even though it wasn't as satisfying a work out, John knew he would benefit from it. It helped to make him more flexible and more focused.

"We can do a Lundii practice," Teyla replied, reaching for her own set of sticks.

"Sounds good," John agreed, falling into the proper stance. The Lundii was more of a warm up exercise than actual fighting, which was exactly what he had expected from her. He followed her lead then broke the good news to her. "We're going back through the gate tomorrow."

Teyla looked startled, but she was still focused and she blocked John's mock attack. "It will be good to go back out," she said softly, but then her eyes drifted over him. "Are you sure you are ready?"

John nodded. "I feel great, Teyla. I'm ready." And it was good to be able to say that and mean it. Other than a slight stiffness in his shoulders and ribs, John felt terrific. And more focused than he had in a long time. Which he promptly demonstrated by disarming Teyla with a series of moves that she had taught him months ago. Moves he hadn't practiced as much as he should have, but they served him well now that he was more aware of each action.

"You have been practicing," Teyla said, as she retrieved her sticks. And she sounded both approving and chiding.

"Not really," John confessed. "But I'm trying to pay better attention."

Teyla looked pleased and proud. "Shall we go again?" she invited.

John smiled. "Let's."

They practiced for half an hour, until Teyla called a halt to the session. She excused herself to head for the shower and John decided to do the same before heading for the mess hall. He was feeling hungry again. Once back in his room he stripped, showered, then dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved t-shirt. He was still hungry, but he was also feeling a bit jittery and a dull ache throbbed in his temples, so John set about making a cup of tea first.

Reaching for his book, he read while he waited for the tea to be ready, then continued reading until he had drained the cup. After cleaning up he headed out the door and straight to the mess hall. He was starving. But it only took half a sandwich and a glass of milk to fill him.

Feeling a bit wired, John considered a run, but a glance at his watch and he knew he needed to chill out. They were going back through the gate in the morning and he didn't want to push his luck. He returned to his room, stripped down to boxers and a t-shirt and crawled into bed with his book. He didn't remember falling asleep.

Morning, however, came with a jolt and the memory of a nightmare fresh in his mind. John shook away the last traces of it, dissolving the image of himself shooting Ford through the heart instead of Sumner. A Ford who was very much alive and not disfigured. A Ford who had been begging him not to shoot.

Climbing out of bed, John set the hot pot going before heading for the bathroom to relieve his bladder and splash cold water on his face. He felt jittery and anxious, ready to jump out of his skin. He didn't wait for the water to boil before adding a tea bag and a shuloc leaf. He pulled on sweats and stuffed his feet into sneakers while it steeped a moment, then he grabbed it and gulped it down, fingering his temples as he willed the sudden ache to go away.

After a few minutes John could feel the tension leaving his body. He swallowed the last bit in the cup, cleaned up the mess then headed out the door for a run. Once back in his room he felt less anxious and more energized. Focused. He showered, got dressed and rigged up, then headed for the mess hall. Knowing they would have to brief for the mission, John grabbed a muffin and some juice, downed the juice then worked on the muffin while heading for Weir's office. His team was there, waiting, and she made short work of filling them in.

It would be a simple mission. They were heading to a homeworld address that Old Weir had given them before dying. That done she saw them off and John felt giddy with anticipation.

Only to return to Atlantis eight hours later feeling tired, cranky and frustrated. The headache that had lodged in his temples wasn't helping, and it took focus for John not to be snappy during the debrief. They had found a ZPM but it was depleted. He knew everyone was feeling the frustration, but right now it felt amplified to him.

"Maybe Atlantis could tell us where to find some ZPM's," Rodney was saying.

At which point John perked up. "How?" he prompted.

Rodney locked eyes with him. "Through the chair. You haven't really tried to find any before. Which we really should have thought of." He looked about to say more only Zelenka came barreling into the room, and without apology, moved to Rodney and hauled him out of his chair.

"We have fluctuations," he said, waving his laptop under Rodney's nose.

"What?" Rodney grabbed it, studied it then hurried out of the room with Zelenka in tow.

Elizabeth watched them go. "That doesn't sound good," she stated.

John agreed. "I'll check up on them and report back," he told her, pushing out of his own chair. As he walked out the door he decided to make a pit stop at his room. He needed a shower and a cup of tea. Then he could check on Rodney before heading for the chair room. John was going to ask Atlantis about ZPM's.

The moment John stepped into his room, he went for the hot pot. His headache was steadily increasing and he felt jittery enough to want to jump out of his own skin. What he needed to be was focused right now. He jumped in the shower, was out in minutes with a towel wrapped around his waist. The water was done so John steeped the tea while he dressed then drank it down. He strapped on his thigh holster then went in search of McKay.

He found both Rodney and Zelenka in the main lab, huddled over a laptop. "How are those fluctuations doing?" he offered in greeting.

Zelenka's head shot up. "Is gone," he replied, looking worried and confused.

"Gone?" John echoed. "You make that sound like a bad thing."

"Is bad since we cannot figure out where they came from in first place," Zelenka replied.

Rodney shifted on his stool to face John. "What he means to say is, after running diagnostic after diagnostic, there's no reason for the fluctuations in the first place."

John didn't like the sound of that. He really hoped something wasn't going wrong with Atlantis. Which was another thing he would ask about in the chair. "Are the fluctuations causing any problems?" he prompted.

"Not that we can tell," Rodney replied. "But it just shouldn't be happening."

"Maybe I can ask Atlantis about it," John offered, and he watched Rodney's eyes light up as he jumped off the stool.

Hands fluttering, Rodney reached for John, hauling him out the door. "Yes, of course. We'll ask Atlantis. How fortunate for us you can talk to her!" The latter part was said with much sarcasm.

John let it go. He knew Rodney still had a residual jealousy over the fact that John had the natural gene and he didn't. Once in the chair room he sat down immediately and it felt like coming home. The tea had helped his headache ease and the anxiety fade away, so he was intently focused as he connected with her. The first thing he did was ask about the fluctuations. The response brought up some holographic schematics, which had Rodney scrambling for his laptop. John downloaded them when requested to, then he went searching for more things. Finally he asked about the ZPM's and he was pleased when holographic text appeared.

Rodney made a strangled sound, but looked pleased. "Send it!" he snapped, waving one hand in John's direction.

"Sending," John replied, then he watched the writing fade away. He still couldn't read Ancient, beyond a few words of it that Elizabeth had insisted he learn, but he recognized it when he saw it. "Good stuff?" John asked, as he powered down the chair. He could feel his headache starting up again and he was pretty sure it was because his connection was so deep. But he didn't want to give Beckett any reason to ground him again. Better to play it safe.

"Good stuff," Rodney confirmed, then he waved John off. "Go away now."

Laughing, John did as he was told. He decided since he still felt energized, that a run would be in order. There were walkways that ran outside Atlantis and when it was warm enough he liked to run them, enjoying the fresh air. He went back to his room, changed for a run, grabbed Ronon to go with him and set off.

They ran for over an hour, then did a light workout in the gym. Another shower later and they met up with Teyla in the mess hall. John then checked on Rodney, who snapped at him, but that just made John laugh and he still left him the food he'd brought. Rodney did thank him as he headed out the door. He had his report to do, plus a few to read. He returned to his room and settled down in front of his laptop. Three hours later he started feeling jittery and the ache in his temples was back. He decided to make another cup of tea, read a bit, then head to bed. It was late.

As he drank the tea, John realized he had kind of lost track of how many cups he was drinking a day. Rala had told him one a day for peace of body and mind, but the extra cups didn't seem to be hurting him any. If anything they were helping him, so John shrugged off any concerns he might have. The tea was natural, which had to be a better thing than taking bottle after bottle of aspirin, and relying on sleeping pills to sleep at night. Plus the Shuloc did seem to help him sleep better, with less nightmares. John considered that a big plus.

Shrugging off any worries, John stripped off his pants and slid under the covers. He thought off the lights and let himself drift warmly into slumber.

OoO

He didn't have any dreams. But part of that could have come from the fact that someone was calling him on his radio. Peering blearily at his watch, John saw it was 3am. Which meant something bad was happening. "Sheppard here," he said, after sliding the earpiece into place. "What's going on?"

It was Elizabeth who replied. "We have a problem, John. I need you in the conference room now!"

"On my way." He was already slipping his pants on and stuffing his feet into his boots. One minute later he was running out the door. When he reached the conference room it was to find Elizabeth and Rodney there. Rodney was pacing. "What's wrong?" John asked, slumping into his usual chair.

"We have a virus," Rodney replied, and he looked frazzled.

John looked at Elizabeth and asked, "Computer virus or nano virus?" There hadn't been any lock downs and Beckett wasn't around, so he was guessing the former.

She grimaced and replied, "Looks like a computer virus, but Rodney can explain it better."

"I'm all ears," John said, turning to face McKay.

"Bottom line is this," Rodney began, looking more than a little flustered. "We're losing data, or at least we were. We managed to stop it and I have people going over the system to see what we've lost."

John nodded. "Okay, so how did you discover the virus? Shouldn't you have been sleeping?" He didn't need McKay pulling all-nighters. Hell, he didn't need to be pulling them either. In fact, he was feeling the effects of being up so early. His body felt lethargic and his temples were throbbing, warning John of an impending headache. And to top it all off he was feeling jittery again. He tried to mute out those feelings, because he knew he needed to be focused right now.

Rodney looked annoyed as he answered. "Third shift discovered the virus. They called me, I called Zelenka, who called me back to tell me about the virus and the sabotage."

"What sabotage?" John looked at Elizabeth who just shrugged at him, so he turned back to McKay.

"Crystals were removed and damaged, causing energy fluctuations," Rodney replied.

John pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm guessing that's a bad thing?"

Rodney looked at him like he had suddenly developed two heads. "Of course that's a bad thing. They don't grow on trees you know!"

"You're talking about the same crystals we found on MRZ-641, right?" John countered. He remembered how barren that planet had been except for the caves filled with the beautiful crystals. They hadn't been able to mine any at the time because the Wraith had popped in for a visit. Weir had locked out the address for the time being, but John turned to her now with a hopeful look. "I'm betting the Wraith are long gone," he said, helpfully.

"Probably," Elizabeth allowed. "And I already told Rodney you could go. But I want to deal with what happened here first."

John nodded, his mind at work, replaying what Rodney had told him. "So someone had to have done this deliberately," he said, voicing his thoughts aloud. "Do you think this is connected to the fluctuations from earlier?"

Rodney had been pacing but he stopped and waved a finger around. "Yes, yes! It has to be connected. I have no idea why, but it has to be connected."

"So the next question is who?" John grinned a bit, feeling almost revved up at the thought of a mystery. So long as things remained as they appeared to be for the moment. No harm, no foul. "If we find who did it, we can ask them why."

"Well look for a scientist," Rodney stated. "No one else has the intelligence to create the virus, download it, and know what crystals to remove to cause the most damage with minimal effort. Oh...and not get caught."

John had pretty much figured that out already. "I'll put Lorne on the investigation. Meanwhile I'll head out to MRZ-641 with my team." He looked at Elizabeth as he spoke and she was nodding. "Rodney...you coming or staying?"

Rodney looked undecided for a moment. "I should stay and help Zelenka," he said, then he made a face. "But you'll need me to get the proper crystals."

"Then go suit up," John ordered. "The sooner we get there the sooner we get back. I'll contact Teyla and Ronon, then send Lorne to you for briefing." The latter he directed at Elizabeth.

"Sounds like a plan, Colonel," she said firmly. "Make it so."

John arched an eyebrow at her comment. "Closet Star Trek fan?"

Elizabeth chuckled, looking a bit embarrassed. "Closet Jean Luc Picard fan, and I always wanted to say that."

"You people are hopeless," Rodney muttered.

"Go get ready," John said, pushing McKay towards the door. He gave Elizabeth a mock salute then followed Rodney out, falling into step with him for the moment. "How serious is this?" John asked, his amusement fading.

Rodney stopped muttering to himself to reply, "If we hadn't been able to stop the virus, it would have been catastrophically serious."

John winced, not liking the sound of that. "What was the saboteur trying to accomplish?"

"I don't know yet!" Rodney snapped. "When I figure it out you'll be the first to know!" With that he turned left, stalking away.

"Okay then," John drawled, turning in the other direction. A headache was looming and his first stop was his room. Before they left he needed another cup of tea, and a shower to wake him up. He radioed Ronon and Teyla on the way, made his tea, took his shower and met up with his team in the Gateroom, twenty minutes later. "Everyone ready?" he asked, staring pointedly at McKay who was fussing with his vest, as if searching for something.

Apparently Rodney felt the glare and he looked up, glaring back. "I'm ready, I'm just hungry." He removed a powerbar, peeled it open and bit into it with a smug expression.

John turned to find Elizabeth on the catwalk. "Be back soon!" he called up to her.

"Come back safe," she countered.

"Always," John replied, as he watched the gate whoosh to life. He signaled for the others to step through and as he followed them he hoped to God he could keep his promise. But he couldn't shake a sense of impending doom.


	13. Chapter 12

My thanks for all the marvelous FB. You guys keep me motivated. Many thanx to Kodiak for fixing things.

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The homeworld was nothing to write home about. It looked like a dozen other places the Wraith had culled. Trees, grass, some scorched areas, otherwise deserted. But the team followed Rodney, who was trying to coax an energy reading out of his scanner. John could almost feel McKay's frustration. It pretty much matched his own.

After a time John commented, "We do know where we're going, right? I mean, the cave hasn't moved, has it?"

"No it hasn't moved!" Rodney snapped. "But there's something here, something different!" He waved the scanner near John's face. "I'm just trying to figure out whether it's a good something or a bad something. Do you mind?"

"Nope, figure away," John drawled, falling back into step with Teyla. He hoped it was something good or nothing. He felt jumpy enough as it was. Rodney was right. Something was different. Off. He glanced over at Teyla who seemed hyper focused as well and he figured she was feeling it too. Ronon looked the same as always. He was always searching and watching. Seeing things no one else did. Part of why John was so glad to have him on his team.

The walk to the caves took three hours. With minimal complaints from McKay, who was intensely focused on his scanner. They gathered the crystals Rodney decided they needed, stuffing them in a backpack that Ronon carried. Then they took a few minutes for a lunch break. John took a few bites of a powerbar and stuffed the rest in his pocket. He wasn't hungry. The jumpy feeling was getting worse and he couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was going to happen. When he glanced at his team, he could see they were feeling the same way, so at least it wasn't just him.

"Pack up and let's move out!" John ordered, helping Rodney pick up his power bar wrappers. He was rather surprised when McKay didn't protest. Then again, they all knew how important the crystals were and it was time to get back home. He just wished they could have brought a Jumper, but the area was too densely populated with forest areas, and once near the caves there were too many big rocks and a bit of climbing involved.

The walk back was made in double time. As they neared the gate, John knew something was wrong. He hated the fact that they were in twilight hours. It made everything around them shadowy. Made it harder to see.

Rodney piped up at that exact moment. "I'm reading lifesigns. Lots of them."

"Lots as in how many exactly?" John hissed. He liked doing the math in terms of how many each person had to take on.

"Lots as in we're in a lot of trouble!" Rodney snapped back. Then he turned pale.

John had his P90 raised and he started firing. Warning shots. He heard primal screams, coming at them like a wave, and it didn't help that it was hard to distinguish shadows from actual movement. John didn't want to kill anyone if he didn't have too. But when he saw the wave of bodies coming towards him he realized they were going to have a bloody fight on their hands. Ronon was already stunning them, Teyla was shooting, and John joined in, all the while pushing Rodney behind him, crowding him back in the direction towards the gate.

Rodney had his gun out, but he was babbling more than shooting. A loud cry from him had John turning, and firing, but not in time to prevent something stabbing into his shoulder. He bit back a cry of pain, kicking out at the body closest to him. It fell at his feet and John stared at the object imbedded in his shoulder. It looked like a bone carved into a knifepoint. He yanked it out, hissing from the pain, and he was about to shoot his attacker when the man started crawling away from him. To John's surprise, the others who had attacked were doing the same. Crawling or running, jumping over the bodies of their dead.

"What the hell was that?" John demanded, staring down at the crude weapon in his hand. But he meant in general.

"I have never seen them before," Teyla replied.

Ronon was kicking a few bodies over. "Never seen them either," he stated. "No guns."

John realized Ronon was right. All the weapons left behind with the dozen or so dead bodies, were primitive at best. Crude knives or thick, heavy branches carved into clubs. "Guess the Wraith didn't get everyone," he stated, dropping the bone knife. His shoulder burned and he felt the wet patch spreading over his t-shirt.

Teyla was by his side, undoing his vest. "Let me tend to you," she said, firmly.

"It's fine till we get back," John said, lightly batting her hand away. He turned to McKay. "Rodney, dial the gate. Let's go home." John wasn't happy about the fact that he would wind up in Beckett's clutches again, but maybe it was just a scratch. The blade part had only gone in a couple of inches. Painful, sure. But nothing really serious.

"It's not working," Rodney interjected, sounding incredulous.

John frowned and moved to his side. "What's not working?"

Rodney glared at him, then stabbed a finger in the direction of the Gate. "That is not working!" he snapped.

"Did you dial it right?" John wasn't being facetious; he figured maybe Rodney was a bit rattled.

"Of course I dialed it right!" Rodney looked ready to explode. "But be my guest and try for yourself."

John shrugged, instantly regretted it when his shoulder screamed with pain. Oddly enough though, he almost welcomed it. It was a distraction from the headache that had formed long before they had even reached the gate, and it almost made him forget about how jittery he was feeling. It had gotten progressively worse since they'd left the caves. He'd started feeling anxious enough to want to crawl right out of his own skin. At the moment, he was feeling anxious in a different way. Reaching out with his good arm, he dialed the gate. Nothing happened. "What the hell!" John hissed.

Rodney looked both smug and scared. "Good question. I doubt the primitives could have messed with the gate."

"Do you have any idea what might be wrong?" John asked, pointedly. He wanted to get back to Atlantis for a multitude of reasons. Getting the crystals back. Getting some tea, and a half a bottle of Aleve would be great about now.

"Of course I can fix it!" Rodney looked insulted. He muttered under his breath even as he dropped to his knees to check out the DHD.

Teyla had moved to John's side. "We have time enough for me to tend to your shoulder," she said gently.

When John turned to face her, to offer a protest, he realized she wasn't going to back down this time. So he offered a weak grin and let her push him down to the ground. He sat still as she slid his vest off, then she was ripping his t-shirt sleeve open and using gauze from her vest and stuff to bind his shoulder.

"It's not too deep," Teyla said as she worked.

"It's fine," John replied, automatically, although he really wasn't feeling all that great at the moment. In fact he was feeling a bit lightheaded, even sitting down.

Ronon was suddenly there, crouching down in front of him. "Eat this," he said, shoving a power bar in John's face. "You didn't eat much at lunch break."

John realized that was true so he accepted the power bar, which Ronon had already opened, and took a bite. It tasted like cardboard and was dry and hard to swallow. He was grateful for the water Teyla offered him and managed to wash it down with a few swallows. One bite was about all he could manage. "How's it going, Rodney?" John called out. He had tried rising to his feet but both Teyla and Ronon had pushed him back down.

"Hold your horses!" Rodney shot back. Then he was pushing back up to his feet, still muttering to himself, then he dialed the address again. "Yes!" he cheered, once the puddle appeared. "We can go home now."

"Great." John started to rise, finding Ronon's hand hooked under his good arm to help him. It was easier to accept the help than argue about it. But once standing, he shrugged off the helping hand and moved to Rodney's side. "What happened?"

Rodney shrugged. "I'll let you know when I know." He gestured to the gate. "Ready?"

John was more than ready. "Head out," he called to his team. "Time to go home." He watched Rodney go through, followed by Teyla. Then Ronon was nudging him through, so John went, but he turned back once through to Atlantis to make sure Ronon followed. But when he turned back he was met with chaos. And darkness. Shadowy darkness. There was emergency lighting only. "What the hell?"

Zelenka came running over to them, looking frazzled. "We have problem," he stated, rather unnecessarily.

"What's going on?" John demanded.

"Good question." Zelenka pulled at his hair, making it stand up on end more than usual, then blurted out a reply. "The moment you left various systems began shutting down. We tried to contact you but could not dial out. Then no power." He paused to wave his hands around. "As you can see. We have fluctuations at times. One just before you came through."

Rodney raised a hand. "That was me," he piped up.

John was not happy to hear this. "How bad?" he asked Zelenka, and he was surprised that Rodney hadn't asked first. But McKay was staring about, looking distracted. Sort of like he just couldn't quite comprehend what was happening. Which was exactly how John was feeling at the moment.

"Is bad," Zelenka replied. "No life support in some sections."

"Great." John huffed out a sigh of frustration. Then a thought occurred. "Where's Doctor Weir?"

Zelenka looked upset. "She went missing. Major Lorne has a team. They are searching for her."

John rubbed a hand over his face, using his bad arm and regretting it. But he shoved the pain back to be dealt with later. "How long has she been missing?"

"Since soon after you left." Zelenka was rubbing his hands together, looking like he was about to unravel from nerves.

"Dammit!" A very unsatisfactory realization was hitting John, with the force of a Mack truck.

Apparently Rodney was reaching the same conclusion because he suddenly turned to John and whispered, "She can't be doing this. No...it's not possible."

John wanted to believe that, but one plus one was always going to add up to two. Especially when you were good at math. But John was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt. He turned back to Zelenka. "Is anyone else missing? Any scientists?"

"No one, as far as we can tell," Zelenka replied.

"Figures," John muttered. Just once he wished he could have a boring day. Just once. But at least this present crisis was helping to keep him distracted from his shoulder and the jittery feeling he couldn't quite shake. Grabbing for Ronon's backpack, he shoved it in Rodney's arms. "You and Zelenka see what you can do about fixing Atlantis."

Rodney clutched the backpack to his chest but he looked distracted, like he hadn't heard a word John had said when he muttered, "Maybe she's been taken hostage."

John got in McKay's face. "No one else is missing!" he snarled. "Get it together, Rodney. You have work to do!" He was pleased when McKay seemed to snap out of it, confusion clearing away to concentration. When McKay glared at him then snapped at Zelenka to "Move it!" John knew Atlantis was in good hands, so he could focus on other things. Like finding Elizabeth. He had a sinking feeling that he had missed something. That they all had. That he should have listened to his instincts. Finding Elizabeth and bringing her back home from Pyrdia had been too easy. John focused his thoughts and looked at Ronon and Teyla. "You're both with me to find Doctor Weir."

"You should see Dr. Beckett first," Teyla countered, touching his good shoulder. "Ronon and I will search for Doctor Weir."

"I'm fine," John insisted. He was not being shut out. He was in charge of Atlantis again, for the time being, so he was calling the shots.

Rodney interrupted though. He was at one of the consoles on the second level, tapping away. "It's her!" he called out. "It has to be. I've locked on to her code." He looked up and shook his head. "She's doing this, but why?"

John swallowed a sigh and said, "We'll worry about why later. We need to find her and stop her first."

"Oh no!" Rodney gasped and turned pale.

"What?" John surged forward, running up the stairs, adrenaline surging as well, washing away the pain of his injury and the jitteriness that had been plaguing him. "What?" he repeated, when he reached Rodney's side.

Rodney was still shaking his head, his fingers now flying over the keyboard. "Somehow...and she should not have been able to do this...but she's set up an overload in the Naquadah generators."

John had an idea what that meant, but it was better to be sure. "Meaning?" he prompted, finding it hard to keep his voice low and calm. And he really needed to be calm right now.

It was Zelenka who answered him. "She's going to try and blow up Atlantis!" He looked queasy at the thought. Queasy and terrified.

"She can do that?" Ronon asked, as he and Teyla joined them.

"In theory, yes," Rodney replied. He was still typing furiously.

John grimaced. "How do we stop her?"

Rodney went still. He stared up at him. "Hell if I know! I get one system up and she's shutting it down."

"How?" John was not liking the fact that Rodney, the resident genius, couldn't counter whatever Elizabeth was doing. She didn't have the same knowledge or intellect. Rodney was right. She should not be able to do this.

"Virus," Rodney whispered. "Oh god!"

Zelenka had been looking over Rodney's shoulder and now he turned pale as to almost be translucent. "NO!"

John gripped Zelenka and shook him. "What?"

"I created virus to erase data during Siege," Zelenka explained. "She's using it now. She had watched me then. Asked questions. Is my fault." His knees buckled and he would have fallen if John hadn't had a grip on him.

Easing Zelenka down to the floor before releasing him, John asked Rodney, "So how do we stop her?"

Rodney turned pale himself, one hand lifting to scrub over his face. He looked defeated. "I don't know."

But John suddenly knew. "The chair," he whispered. Then he was off and running.


	14. Chapter 13

My thanks to everyone for the lovely FB. You rule. Special thanks to Kodiak. Loffs you.

Sorry this took so long. I've got the flu and it's kicking my butt. :D

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The moment John reached the chair room he was ready. The moment he sat down he felt the power of Atlantis surging through him. She was chaos. The virus was wreaking havoc with her systems. She connected to John, almost suffocating him with her need, and for a moment he felt pure panic. Then he heard Rodney shouting his name and other words, but the words had no meaning. Still, the sounds grounded him and he was able to center himself and to focus. To let slide the pain of his injury, the throbbing in his head, the anxiety that skittered inside him. All of it faded away as John became one with Atlantis.

He felt the core of the virus. He knew where Elizabeth was hiding and he displayed it holographically for Rodney. John didn't have to pay attention to know that McKay would radio the others and send someone to get Elizabeth. Which meant he could focus on stopping the virus. But it wasn't as easy as he had hoped.

It became a game between them. Between John and the virus. Every time he countered something it did or put up a wall to stop it, it would slip around or go another way. One step back, one step forward until it became something of a dance. Or a chess match. Chess was a game John was very familiar with and very good at. Good enough to beat McKay 80 percent of the time. He put those skills to good use now, managing to get a step ahead of the virus. Then another step. Not only managing to counter it, but to repair the damage it was doing.

He was unaware of the power fluctuations going on around him. Unaware that at one point the gateroom lost internal controls and life support. It was nothing but a glitch and he fixed it without conscious thought or effort, letting Atlantis guide him from place to place.

Then they reached the final showdown. John versus the big bad virus. It got a bit ugly for a moment, when it felt to him as if the virus had invaded his own mind, making his body shudder. He felt Rodney gripping his shoulders and screaming his name and John was able to respond to him, to assure Rodney that he was fine. Then he was back to the fight and he kicked ass, using every trick he could think of. Or rather, every trick Atlantis could think of. Though by the time John powered down the chair, he wasn't sure where he stopped and Atlantis began, and vice versa. Not that it mattered. The virus was deleted and everything was back to normal. Or back to relative normal, anyway.

"Amazing, Colonel," Zelenka told him, patting his shoulder as John pushed out of the chair.

"Thanks," he whispered, the sound loud in his head. His brain felt over sensitized at the moment. All of his senses were hyper aware. Sound, touch, sight. Looking around at everything was almost like a 3-D effect which, thankfully, seemed to be fading fast. John knew he needed to slip away and take a moment to get himself back together.

It was easier to do than he had hoped, thanks to the fact that McKay and Zelenka were now wrapped up in running diagnostics on everything. Almost tiptoeing to the door, John slipped away.

As he stepped into the nearby transporter, John tapped his radio and contacted Teyla. "Did you find Elizabeth?" he asked.

"Yes, Colonel," Teyla replied. "Ronon was able to stun her and we are with her in the infirmary."

"How is she?" John held his breath as he waited for a reply.

There was a long pause before Teyla answered. "We are not sure as of yet. Dr. Beckett is running tests on her."

John sighed, he had figured as much. "I'm going to clean up then I'll be there to check on things. Contact me if you need me." He signed off before she could reply. Two minutes later he was in his room, letting the door close behind him before sagging against it. Feeling something sliding down his lip, John swiped at it with his fingertips and was surprised to see them stained red. Then it hit him. Another nosebleed. Perfect.

Pushing away from the door, he bit back a moan. Everything ached at this moment. Including his skin. But he knew what would help. A mug of tea. He reached for the hot pot, ignoring the way his hands trembled as he plugged it in. Ignoring the way he nearly spilled the water out of the mug after filling it. Once it was heating he went into the bathroom and stuffed a towel against his nose. By the time the water was ready, the nosebleed had stopped. John rinsed the towel out, washed his hands, then went into the other room to make his tea. He added the tea bag, a Shuloc leaf and stirred the contents. He waited just long enough for it to steep in some color before taking his first sip. Tasted like crap but it wasn't about the taste. So he gulped it as fast as he could without burning his tongue. Then he set the empty mug aside.

Moving into the bathroom, John began stripping off his clothes. His shoulder burned with pain, but the burn was easing fast. By the time the Shuloc really kicked in, the pain was nothing more than an irritation. It hurt, no doubt about it, but in a way that was bearable. The ache in his temples was gone and John's thoughts felt clear and focused again. Best part of all, he no longer felt jittery and when he held out his hands, they didn't shake. The damn stuff was amazing.

Since he felt more energized than he had in a while, he got straight into the shower and cleaned up. A bit of hissing ensued when he got to cleaning his shoulder, but John gritted his teeth and got through it. By the time he was out of the shower and drying off, his shoulder was throbbing and he found himself looking for the bottle of Aleve that Beckett had given him a while back. He popped two pills, washed them down with a glass of water, then brushed his teeth before getting half dressed. There was the matter of binding his shoulder. John had field dressings in his room and he used one to stop the sluggish bleeding. It was awkward trying to tie it off and he was cursing by the time he was done, but it would do for now. John wanted to put off Beckett's attentions for as long as possible.

He finished getting dressed, strapped on his thigh holster, then headed for the infirmary pulling his jacket on as he went. His shoulder throbbed with pain, reminding him to take it easy on it. Then he was in the transporter and a few minutes later he was entering the infirmary. Locating Beckett was easy; he was hovering over a bed in the far corner.

John moved to join him, nodding at Ronon and Teyla who were off to one side, watching everything that went on. "Any news, Doc?" John queried.

"Nothing definite," Carson replied, looking unhappy at that confession. "I've had to sedate Elizabeth. Whatever is wrong it's affecting her in such a way that she's become irrational and violent.

"Hence the restraints," John stated, eyeing the ties about her wrists. He felt a stab of relief that for once it wasn't him.

Carson sighed and nodded. "I hate having to do this, but she about near took my head off with a bedpan." Which was another confession he didn't look too happy making.

John grinned at the thought and made a mental note to ask Ronon for details later. But for now they had to focus on finding out what was wrong with Elizabeth. "Teyla said you've been running tests. Nothing?"

"Nothing conclusive," Carson replied. "The brain scan shows a bit of an anomaly, but nothing that suggests the behavior she's showing. I'm running more tests for blood work and such. I won't have anything conclusive for a bit, but I really don't expect I'll find anything. I didn't before."

"Whatever happened, it has to be tied in with Pyrdia," Ronon interjected.

John had been thinking just that and he nodded. "I agree. Which means we need to go back there and ask some questions." He let his tone convey the take no prisoner attitude he was feeling. He turned to Ronon and Teyla. "We'll leave right away. We don't need Rodney for this."

Teyla touched his arm, garnering his attention, then said, "I think it would be best to let Dr. Beckett tend to your wound while Ronon and I return to Pyrdia. We know our way around."

"What wound?" Carson piped up.

"The Colonel was stabbed with a primitive weapon," Teyla supplied, helpfully.

That earned her John's death glare, which she simply shrugged off. He turned to Beckett to start damage control only to hiss in pain as the good doc grabbed his bad arm.

Carson released him and looked horrified. "I'm so sorry, Colonel. I should have asked which arm."

"It's fine," John replied, through gritted teeth. The throbbing had been doable earlier, but now it was burning enough to make his eyes about water.

"I'll be the judge of that," Carson stated firmly. He gestured to a bed in the corner, eyeing John sternly.

John sighed, knowing he wasn't getting out of this. Also knowing that they didn't have time to waste. They needed to know what was wrong with Elizabeth. "Just a minute," he said to Beckett, then he turned to Teyla. "Take Lorne and Cadman and head back to Pyrdia. Don't come back without answers."

Ronon was grinning, but it was a cold curving of his mouth. "We'll have answers," he promised. He shot a look at Weir then turned and stalked off.

"We will do what needs to be done," Teyla said softly, moving to John and touching his arm. "Take care of yourself."

"I'm fine," John assured her. "Come back safe," he added, feeling the need to throw in an Elizabethism. Since she couldn't do it herself. He watched Teyla walk away, turning back only when Beckett tapped him on the arm. "I'm coming," John groused, moving to the corner bed. He let Beckett help him out of his jacket, hiding a wince when he had to move his arm.

Carson made a face as he saw the bulge of the field dressing under John's t-shirt. "Do you need me to cut the shirt off?" he asked.

John's eyes went wide. In spite of the Daedalus bringing them regular supplies now, he didn't have an endless run of t-shirts. "Hell no!" he exclaimed. "I like this shirt."

"Then let me help you get it off," Carson said, tetching a bit as he went to work.

"Shit!" John cursed, by the time they were done. He felt a bit lightheaded and a cold sweat sheened his skin.

Carson pushed him down onto the bed. "Lie back and let me have a look now." He cut the bandage off and did a quick inspection. "It's bleeding a bit, but no signs of infection yet. What were you stabbed with?"

John gritted his teeth as Beckett probed the edge of the wound with a fingertip, resisting the urge to bat the man's hand away. "Looked like a bone that was shaved into a point."

"Are you serious?" Carson looked horrified.

"That's what it looked like," John allowed. Then he listened to Beckett's mutterings about bacteria and infections and stupid Colonel's without the sense god gave them. "I heard that," John drawled, knowing that he was meant too.

Instead of replying, Carson took his BP, then his temperature, clucking at the reading of the latter. "Looks like you might already have an infection starting, Colonel," he stated. "You'll be my guest for a few days."

John hadn't expected to hear that and he came up off the bed, hissing at the pain in his shoulder. "I'm in charge of Atlantis, I can't stay here!" he protested.

"You can do your duties from here," Carson countered. "I'll get you some scrubs then hook you up to an IV. I want to get some fluids in you and pump you full of antibiotics. See if we can head this off before it digs in."

"One day," John stated. "You get one day out of me."

Carson moved into his line of sight. "You stay for as long as I say you will," he countered. "And you know it. Just relax for a bit, Colonel. I'll be right back."

John closed his eyes and wondered if this day could get any worse.

OoO

By nightfall he was feeling lousy, but trying hard not to show it. His fever was up and he was feeling jittery. Dinnertime had caused a near row between him and Beckett, when John refused to eat. One bite and he'd been ready to puke. So Beckett kept pushing Jell-o cups on him, standing over him while John took a few bites. Blue Jell-o was the worst and John wished he could fake eating them then pawn them off on Rodney.

Speaking of the devil, McKay appeared before him as if on cue.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Rodney queried, as he rocked on his heels, looking tired but pleased.

"Been better," John allowed. "How's Atlantis doing?"

Rodney heaved a sigh. "Better. Good, actually. We've got everything back to normal and there was no lasting damage." He leaned in a bit, looking conspiratorial. "I don't know how you did what you did in the chair, but it was amazing. You actually repaired old damage to some systems."

John was surprised to hear that. Surprised but intrigued. "That's cool."

"It is," Rodney allowed. He nodded then looked over to the bed against the wall. "How's Elizabeth doing?"

"Not so good," John replied. He winced when he remembered the past half hour when Elizabeth had awakened, screaming and pulling at the restraints. Beckett had bustled in and sedated her yet again. "I hope Ronon and Teyla can find something to help us figure out what happened to her."

Rodney looked worried as he studied Elizabeth for a moment, but then his face brightened. "Hey, since you're both out of commission at the moment, does that mean I'm in charge of Atlantis?"

John snorted. "Hell no! I'm still functional, Rodney, so I'm still in charge."

"He's also tired," Carson interjection, appearing behind Rodney and making him jump.

"Don't do that!" Rodney snapped, looking ruffled.

Carson grinned at him. "Time to go, Rodney. Go get some sleep. You look dead on your feet." He pushed McKay towards the door.

Rodney shrugged him off. "I'm going already. Pushy bastard!" He was still muttering on his way out.

"Time for you to get some sleep too, Colonel," Carson stated, as he checked John's IV, then took his temp. "Still 100.8 and holding."

"Which means I should be out of here by tomorrow, right?" John countered, hopefully. But the hope faded when Beckett shook his head. "I expect it will spike a bit later, fevers tend to do that. And you're not leaving here till it's back to normal. So settle in and get some sleep."

John made a show of shifting under the covers and closing his eyes. He listened to Beckett putter around for a moment, then walk away. John sighed. He was feeling too jittery to sleep, but at the same time he was tired. So he kept his eyes closed and willed himself to drift off. After a time he got his wish.

But all too soon he was plagued by nightmares. Elizabeth as a Wraith Queen, forcing John to his knees and smiling at him before slamming her hand into his chest and sucking the life out of him. She laughed as she fed off him, her eyes wild as she whispered "You deserve to die, Sheppard. You brought death to this galaxy. Death to us all..."

"NO!" John swallowed the scream that tried to wrench its way out of his throat. He sat up, ignoring the stab of pain in his shoulder, hands clutching his aching head. Bile rose up, choking him and hands were there, supporting him as he heaved into the basin that magically appeared under his chin. John puked until he dry heaved, body shuddering hard even after they eased him back onto the pillows. He heard Beckett's voice muttering his fever was up and other things before a prick in his arm sent him spiraling into darkness.

OoO

Lorne was glad when Ronon finally stopped on a rise. They had been walking for over four hours without a break. "See anything?" he asked, even as he uncapped his water bottle.

Ronon said nothing, but suddenly he was moving and Lorne sprinted after him, water bottle forgotten. It was twilight hour on Pyrdia, so everything was shadowed, but Lorne saw motion out of the corner of his eyes. He realized it was a woman. "Stop!" he shouted.

The form froze then turned around.

Lorne froze when he saw it was a woman, Veesa, and she was holding a weapon. He didn't get a chance to react, however, because there was a flash of sparkly red light and Veesa was falling, hitting the ground with a thud. Lorne turned to see Ronon holding his stunner and smiling. "Nice shot," Lorne said.

Ronon grunted then moved to Veesa, hauling her off the ground and over his shoulder before heading back the way they had come. Teyla on his heels.

Heaving a sigh, Lorne motioned to Cadman to follow. He fell into their six, scooping up his water bottle on the way.


	15. Chapter 14

You guys are fabulous. The FB is awesome and keeping me motivated. Once this story is finished I hope to go back and finish up RUINS. Thanks to Kodiak for fixing my mistooks. :D

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Ronon had a destination in mind as he carried Veesa off, and it wasn't back to Atlantis. Instead, he led the way into an outcropping of rock, which Lorne soon discovered opened up into a cave. Striding over to the far corner, Ronon dumped Veesa to the ground then nodded to Teyla.

Lorne was almost amused as he watched Teyla pull a set of tie strips out of her vest and use them to bind Veesa's wrists behind her back. A part of him felt he should step in and remind both Ronon and Teyla that he was in charge here. But, truth be told, so far he approved of their methods. He also knew they worked well together as a team and he saw no reason to mess with things for the time being. That said, he turned to Ronon and asked, "Now what?" Because he was pretty sure the big guy had a plan.

"We wait for her to wake up," Ronon said, his tone betraying the fact he thought it was an obvious answer to a stupid question.

"How long is that going to be?" Lorne prompted. He didn't know what setting Ronon had zapped Veesa with. Or if it was a matter of how each individual reacted to being stunned with the Satedan weapon.

Ronon simply shrugged before moving into a squatting position next to Veesa's prone body.

Lorne decided to do the same, only at the woman's feet. He kept an eye on her slack features and was pleased when he saw her eyelids flutter. They needed to get this show on the road. When they'd left Atlantis, Doctor Weir hadn't looked so good.

A moment later Veesa's eyes were open and she was shifting around. When her predicament apparently struck her and she tried to sit up and crawl to get her back against the wall. "What have you done to me?" she demanded, but her tone was shaky and weak.

"Stunned you," Ronon replied, looking pleased. "What did you do to Weir?" His tone was deceptively soft, but laced with steel, and he moved closer to Veesa, letting himself loom over her.

"I will tell you nothing!" Veesa spat, struggling in an attempt to free her arms. She failed miserably and attempted to glare at Ronon.

He looked amused for a moment, then his expression turned cold as ice and he was in her face. "You will tell me." It was a promise, not a threat.

Veesa seemed to understand that, yet she tried to remain uncowed. "Go ahead and torture me!" she snarled. "I can withstand any pain!" She sounded fairly certain, but the glimmer of fear in her eyes didn't back up her proclamation. That and the fact that she was trembling.

Lorne considered intervening now, but Teyla touched his arm and when he looked at her she shook her head, silently asking him to trust Ronon. Lorne backed off, for now.

"Any pain?" Ronon drawled, as he rose to his feet and turned around. Then he was striding towards the exit.

"Where are you going?" Veesa called after him, sounding confused.

Lorne was feeling pretty damned confused himself.

Ronon froze, turned back around and said, "To wipe out your people."

Silence filled the cave for a long moment. A heavy, stunned, silence.

"Teyla!" Lorne hissed to her, beginning to think that Ronon was far more twisted and dangerous than anyone suspected.

"Trust him," she hissed back, her tone firm as she locked eyes with him.

Lorne realized she trusted Ronon and that maybe she knew what he was doing. If Teyla accepted it, then it wouldn't be something insane and stupid. Or so Lorne hoped. He really didn't know Teyla all that well. Mainly he trusted her and Ronon because Sheppard did. But he nodded and turned his attention back to Ronon, hoping he didn't regret this.

Veesa was staring at the Satedan in horror. "What are you talking about?" she replied.

"You tried to destroy my people," Ronon answered, moving back to her side and staring down at her with cold eyes. "I intend to return the favor. Only I won't fail."

"No!" Veesa turned pale, eyes searching his face and suddenly she appeared to deflate the fight gone. "Please do not harm my people!" She was out and out begging.

One corner of Ronon's mouth twitched and he crouched back down again, holding her gaze with his own. "How do we fix Weir?" he countered.

Veesa drew in a shuddery breath, then she began talking.

OoO

He felt like shit. Nauseous, jittery, headache throbbing with pain. And adding to the misery were new symptoms. Cramping. Of the likes John hadn't felt since he'd gotten food poisoning when he was 19. This cramping felt worse than those, like his insides were knotting themselves together then playing tug of war. Trying to find a good position to curl up in was hopeless. Every time he tried it made his shoulder feel like it was on fire. Having a fever wasn't helping either. It was low grade and Beckett wasn't even particularly worried about it, but it was one more thing to add to the crappiness. The kicker being that anything Beckett gave John in an attempt to help him, pretty much left him feeling worse.

Despite everything, he was trying to keep it together. To keep control. To be able to function enough to remain in charge of things because Elizabeth wasn't even close to being able to take her job back. In fact, she was dying. John knew that Beckett's concern over Elizabeth was the only thing keeping the good Doc from paying more attention to John's misery. For which he was grateful.

"How is she?"

John jumped at the sound of Rodney's voice beside him. Jumped and bit back a groan as pain rippled through him, feeling like it was everywhere. He slowly opened his eyes, blinking hard to bring McKay's worried face into focus. He shifted his eyes to the bed in the far corner with the emergency curtain drawn. "Not good," John replied. "She's dying."

Rodney winced at that. "Yeah."

Everyone knew it even though John was now the first to actually say it out loud. The fever was ravaging Elizabeth's body and her organs were beginning to shut down. Beckett was keeping her alive, but he was losing the battle. Forcing himself to focus on the things he could do something about, John asked, "Any word from Lorne?"

"No." Rodney looked despondent as he pulled up a chair and sat down. "They're out of radio contact." He scrubbed a hand over his face, rubbing at red-rimmed eyes, then said, "We don't have much time, do we?" His eyes darted over to the curtained bed.

"They'll make it back in time," John stated, emphatically. Because he had to believe it was true.

Rodney appeared to want to believe it too. He grimaced but nodded then asked, "How are you feeling? You look like crap."

And there was the McKay they all knew and loved. John let himself relax into a sweet second of normality. Plus it was time to face a harsh reality of his own. "I've been better," he allowed. "Um...how do you feel about co-leading things for a time?" The question came out in a rush. John wasn't one to hide from difficult things, but he wasn't thrilled about having to face this either. And he was a bit worried about Rodney going power crazy. Not intentionally of course, but they had talked about it one night. About what being in charge of Atlantis would be like and Rodney had gone on and on about the changes he would make and the things he would do, if given a chance. John wasn't sure he was ready to give it to him.

"Co-leading?" Rodney echoed, looking surprised. "Really?"

"Sure." John grinned at him. "It's not like you aren't doing that already anyway." Which was the truth. With John being stuck in the infirmary, he'd had no choice but to rely on Rodney to handle certain things. All he was really doing now was making it official. "I want updates and often though," John warned.

Rodney nodded. "I can do updates." He was about to say more when his radio beeped. Rodney tapped his ear and said, "McKay!"

John listened intently to the voice on the other end of the radio. The one announcing that Lorne just sent his IDC. He locked eyes with Rodney and nodded.

"Let them in and send them straight to the infirmary!" Rodney ordered, before tapping off. He jumped to his feet and began pacing. "I really hope they have good news."

"So do I!" Carson interjected, as he moved to John's bed and, reflexively, began taking his pulse. "Elizabeth isn't doing well at all."

John felt ready to jump out of his skin. But he made a show of being calm and letting Beckett fuss over him. Letting it be a bit of a distraction as they waited for Lorne and the others to show up. The seconds seem to tick by slowly, each one dragging out until if felt more like a minute. Then there was the sound of commotion and suddenly it seemed as if a dozen people were in the room, surrounding his bed. It took John a moment to get focused and sort things out. After a moment he realized that Lorne was standing with Cadman, to his left, and that both looked grim. Teyla was on his other side and Ronon was at the foot of the bed with a tall woman at his side. A tall woman with her hands bound behind her. Instinctively John knew it had to be Veesa. She looked the way Elizabeth had described her. "Report!" John said to Lorne.

The Major nodded then spoke quickly, efficiently giving them the details they needed. "We found Veesa and Dex got the information we need from her. Teyla can probably explain it to Dr. Beckett better."

Carson stepped forward before John could reply. He faced Teyla. "What did you find out, lass?"

"That Doctor Weir was drugged," Teyla stated, looking angry yet composed as always. She dug into her pocket and pulled something out. It looked gray and tuberous with sproutings that looked like gnarled veins. "This is the antidote to the drug. Doctor Weir must chew it so that it is absorbed into her system quickly."

"She's unconscious," Carson countered, looking upset even as he accepted the root and appeared to study it. "She can't chew anything."

John did not want to hear that. "There must be something you can do," he prompted.

Carson was nodding. "Yes. I think if we crush it, it will juice up enough that we can dribble it on her tongue. Same affect as her chewing it." He turned and made to move off.

Rodney caught him by the arm. "You aren't really going to give that to her, are you? It could be another form of poison!"

"We don't really have a choice!" Carson snapped. "Elizabeth is dying as we speak!" That announcement hung in the sudden silence that filled the room.

John shattered it. He locked eyes with Teyla. "Do you think it's safe to give to Elizabeth?"

Teyla made a face, then nodded. "Yes. I believe Veesa is telling us the truth."

"She is," rumbled Ronon, his expression stern. His grip on Veesa's arm tightened and she gasped and glared at him.

"Do it then," John said to Beckett. He watched the man nod then scurry away."

Rodney looked dumbfounded and he moved closer to John, stabbing a finger nearly into his face. "You probably just killed Elizabeth!" he snapped.

John grabbed McKay by the wrist then locked eyes with him. "If we don't try she's dead anyone. We've got nothing to lose." And that grim reminder seemed to shake Rodney out of his anger.

"Right." Rodney yanked his wrist free and started pacing.

"Why did you bring Veesa back here?" John asked Lorne.

The Major shrugged. "It was Ronon's idea. He believes it will keep her honest."

John sensed there was much more to the story, but he was content to ask about it later. Right now most of his attention was directed toward the bed in the corner. But he did remember to give Lorne one last order for the moment. "Take our prisoner to the Brig. If Elizabeth dies she'll remain as our guest indefinitely."

"Yes, sir." Lorne nodded, looking pleased. He moved to Veesa and took her by the arm, tugging her away from Ronon. Then Lorne walked out, Cadman trailing after him.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" Teyla asked him, once the team was alone.

John wasn't sure how to answer that. Truthfully, he felt like shit. He decided to settle on mostly the truth. "I'll be fine." He was sure he would be as soon as he could get out of the infirmary and back to his room. One cup of Shuloc tea and John knew he would feel better. But since he couldn't escape just yet, he decided to try and distract himself. "Did Veesa tell you why she drugged Elizabeth?"

Teyla nodded. "To force her to destroy Atlantis. The Pyrdians believe that the Ancients created the Wraith with the intent to destroy their world and they wanted to punish us for that."

"How nice of them," Rodney interjected.

"They need to get in line," John replied, noticing McKay's crooked mouth twitch in an attempt not to smile. His work here was done, at least on one level. Rodney was starting to chill. Not that any of them were going to be able to relax until they knew Elizabeth was alright. "What about the drug. I mean, how could it make her obey orders like that?"

Rodney made a face and replied before Teyla could. "Has to be psychotropic, making her open to implanted suggestions."

Teyla was nodding. "That is basically what Veesa told us. We have the vegetable that they use to make the drug." She produced it from another pocket on her vest. "I thought Dr. Beckett might want to study it."

"They get the drug from a vegetable?" Rodney squeaked, turning a shade paler. "That's just wrong!"

"It's working!" Carson's excited voice carried across the room to them. A moment later he appeared at the foot of John's bed. "The juice is fast acting," he said, happily. "I no more than touched it to Doctor Weir's tongue and she began stirring. Her vitals came up and she's responsive."

Ronon looked satisfied. "She told the truth about that. Lucky for her."

John realized that Ronon had been prepared to kill Veesa had Elizabeth died. Truthfully, he had been prepared to let him. But now it would be fair to let the woman go. "Teyla, I want you and Ronon to take Veesa back home tomorrow morning." He figured keeping her overnight would be wise, to make certain Elizabeth suffered no complications."

"We will be happy to do that, Colonel," Teyla replied. She looked relieved, with a soft smile now curving her lips.

"So Carson, how long before Elizabeth wakes up?" Rodney asked.

Beckett hesitated, looking like he didn't want to get their hopes up. "I'm hoping within the next few hours."

Ronon grunted then said, "Veesa told us that once the antidote is administered, Weir should recover quickly without any ill effects."

"I wonder if she will remember what happened to her?" John mused out loud.

"I've been wondering that myself," Carson seconded.

Teyla smiled at them both. "Veesa said that Doctor Weir's memories should be intact."

Carson looked relieved. "I'm glad to hear that."

"Me too," John piped in, then he stifled a groan as pain twisted through his gut. Fucking cramps were killing him.

"Everyone out!" Carson announced, shooing Ronon, Teyla and Rodney towards the door. "My patients need to rest."

John thought about protesting having everyone run off, because the company offered a distraction, but then another wave of pain rippled through his midsection and he was too busy trying to breathe through it.

Carson was by his side, a syringe in hand. He dumped the contents into the IV port. "This should give you some relief, Colonel," he said gently. "I just wish I knew what to do to fix you up. Nothing is showing in your blood work. Best I can figure is you have some kind of virus we've never come across before."

"Lucky me," John moaned through gritted teeth. He felt a liquid warmth start seeping through his brains and with it came a bit of relief. After a few minutes, the pain eased up more and warm darkness drifted over him. John felt his eyelids grow heavy.

"Get some sleep, Colonel," Carson said in a voice that sounded tinny and very far away.

John was all for it, letting himself slip gently away.

OoO

The blissful darkness faded away into shadows. Then the shadows became figures, ghost-like forms with blurred faces, slithering in and out of his dreams. Dreams that ended with him walking through Atlantis, leaving a trail of bloody footsteps behind. He was all alone now. Everyone else was dead and their blood slicked his hands. It tracked like scarlet tears down his face, pooling into his mouth until he gagged on the copper taste and the rancid stench of it.

Then bile was rising in his throat and John bolted upright, ignoring the searing pain that the movement ignited throughout his body. He spewed vomit over the side of the bed, hearing it splatter on the floor, then hands were on him, supporting him as he heaved until his stomach was empty. Then cool wetness washed away the cold sweat that slicked his face, cooling the fever-heat of his skin, wiping away the memory of his dreams.

"Colonel, are you feeling better now?" Carson asked.

John forced his eyes open, blinking hard until Beckett's face came into focus. "Better," he croaked, forcing out the lie. He felt worse. He trembled against the effort not to scratch at his skin, feeling so jittery that it was as if an electric current was running through his veins. The cramps were still twisting in his gut, and his head was pounding, the nausea still sharp on his tongue. John needed the Shuloc and he needed it now. "Just...tired," he whispered, making himself unfurl a bit. "How...how's Elizabeth?"

Carson grinned. "She's doing much better. I'll probably release her tomorrow morning."

"Good," John said softly. "Sleepy," he added, closing his eyes, and he was relieved when Beckett got the hint and wandered off. John watched him through slitted eyes as he fussed over Elizabeth. He was glad she was better now. Glad she could take back her job. He never wanted to run things anyway. All he cared about at the moment was to stop feeling miserable. Lady Luck appeared to be smiling on John.

Beckett got an emergency call to one of the labs and he ran off, taking two nurses with him. The nurse left on duty went with Elizabeth to the bathroom and John heard her mention a shower. Which was his cue to leave. Unhooking the IV took a moment because he couldn't get his hand to stop shaking, so he finally just tugged it out, uncaring about the tiny tear to his skin. Then John was on his feet, hunched over against the pain. By the time he slipped out into the hallway, he was ready to crawl to his room. Once in the transporter, he sagged against the wall. It felt like an hour passed before he was finally in his room.

Stumbling over to where he kept the hot pot, John plugged it in and grabbed a mug, but he was shaking so hard he dropped it. He wanted to cry but blinked back tears of frustration and found another mug. He filled it with water and set it to boil, before making himself focus on cleaning up the broken shards of mug and tossing them in the trashcan. He then grabbed a tea bag and the Shuloc bag and grabbed the water. Half a mug of water heated pretty fast and John figured the stronger the dose of tea the better. He dumped in the tea bag and two Shuloc leaves, stirred it with a finger then gulped it down. He didn't even notice at first that he dribbled some of it down his chin. He made himself unplug the hot pot, shove the mug in the drawer with the Shuloc leaves and close it, then he let himself collapse on the floor.

John lost track of how much time passed, but eventually he stopped shaking and the pain in his gun untwisted itself and faded away. He still felt achy and lightheaded, but better enough to crawl into the bathroom, strip, and climb into the shower. After a time the hot water eased away some of the aches as well and, although he didn't feel perfect, John felt so much better that he realized he was smiling. Now he could get some restful sleep.

He got out of the shower, dried off enough not to drip then wrapped the towel around his waist while he brushed his teeth. That done he was ready to pull on sweats and a t-shirt then crawl into bed. Only when he stepped back into his room it was to find Beckett waiting for him.

The good doc was pissed. It was obvious in his stance and in the glare emanating from the laser blue eyes. John winced then waved a limp hand at him. He felt better but still weak and when he took a step forward he stumbled, feeling dizzy. He felt Beckett grip his arm and guide him over to his bed.

"What the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Colonel?" Carson demanded, even as he gave John a cursory once over.

"I'm sorry," John apologized, almost automatically. "I felt sweaty and gritty and there was no one around so I came back here to take a shower. I really do feel better now." He knew it had to show.

Some of the anger deflated from Carson. "Sorry that no one was there," he said. "I had an emergency that turned out to be somewhat of a false alarm. The nurse on duty was helping Elizabeth. She thought you were sleeping."

John shrugged, feeling the pull in his shoulder, but it was a dull pain this time, which was a vast improvement. "It's okay. No harm no foul. I just want to sleep now. In my own bed. I'll sleep better. Especially since it's quieter in here and...more private." He made all his arguments up front.

"I'm surprised you managed to make it here on your own," Carson stated.

"I pretty much crawled," John allowed, offering a grin. He was pretty sure Beckett was going to let him stay here.

Carson sighed then shook a finger at him. "I should haul you back to the infirmary, and I still might," he warned. "But let's get you dressed first, you're shivering, then I'll give you a check over and if I'm happy with the results you can stay here. For now."

John was willing to accept that deal. He pointed to the bottom drawer. "Sweats and old t-shirts," he said. When Beckett grabbed them and came back over, John accepted his help getting dressed. Then he was happy to slide under the covers and let the doc fuss over him.

"You do seem to be better," Carson allowed, looking surprised. "Temp is down and I can tell you're not hurting as much."

"Turned the corner I guess," John offered, as a reasonable explanation for his sudden recovery. And he could tell that Beckett bought it. Which was a relief in itself. "I'm even a little hungry." That perked Beckett right up. "So...can I stay here?"

Carson nodded. "Alright, Colonel. If you promise to stay put." When John nodded he sighed. "I'll send a nurse to check on you and bring you some soup. I'm going to be doing periodic checks and if you leave this room I will hunt you down and haul your scrawny behind back to the infirmary. Understand?"

John grinned. "I get it, Doc. I'll stay put. I just want to sleep."

"Good." Carson fussed with the covers then patted John's shoulder. "Get some rest."

"How's Elizabeth doing?" John asked, just because he wanted to make sure she really was all right.

Carson grinned, looking light-hearted. "She's pretty much back to normal. A bit tired but otherwise perfectly fine. I may release her in a few hours."

John was glad to hear that. "Can I see her later?"

"You just got done promising me you wouldn't leave this room, Colonel!" Carson chided.

"She can visit me," John protested.

Carson shook a finger at him. "You'll be sleeping. Maybe tomorrow."

John stuck his tongue out, not caring how childish it was. But truth be told, he would be sleeping. His eyelids were already drooping. "Night..." he mumbled, feeling sleep pulling hard at him. He welcomed it this time because he knew he wouldn't dream now.

"Sweet dreams," Carson whispered, as if reading John's thoughts.

But John didn't reply. He was already sleeping.

OoO

When he woke up he felt much better. In fact he was smiling as he spotted the note from Beckett on his nightstand. Along with a glass of juice and a warning to stay in bed until he got there. But John didn't stay in bed. Instead he got up and relieved his bladder, took another shower. He felt a bit jittery, but he knew how to fix that. So once he was dressed again he made some tea. He drank the juice while waiting, knowing Beckett would be checking up on him, then he prepared his tea, took a sip, then got back in bed with his book.

Five minutes later there was a knock on the door. Before John could call out, expecting it to be Beckett, Elizabeth's voice announced herself. "Come in!" John said, not able to keep the surprise from his voice. He watched the doors open and Elizabeth enter, smiling. "How are you feeling?" She looked much better than the last time he'd seen her.

"I guess I'm okay," Elizabeth replied, moving over to the bed. "Better than I was."

"Come sit." John patted the side of the bed. "You must be better if Beckett released you," he prompted, because he sensed she wasn't really talking about her physical well being and he figured he'd give her an opening.

Elizabeth made a face but sat down. She studied John a minute then said, "You look tired, but better than I had expected from what Beckett had told me about your condition."

John shrugged, being careful not to spill the remains of his tea. There hadn't been a need to chug it down this morning so he was allowing himself to savor it. He tensed when Elizabeth leaned down to sniff the contents.

"Lemon?" she asked.

"Sort of," John replied, almost stumbling over the reply. "Would you like some?" He meant the regular tea of course. Although Elizabeth looked like she could use some Shuloc at the moment. He could tell she was upset and that something was weighing heavily upon her.

A shake of her head and Elizabeth was up and pacing. "No, thanks. I'm good."

John watched her pace a moment then asked, "What's wrong?" Apparently she needed to be asked because she didn't hesitate to answer.

"I tried to destroy Atlantis!" Elizabeth looked shaken by her own words.

"No, you were mind controlled and didn't know what you were doing," John replied. "I'm sure Beckett and McKay have told you the whole story."

Elizabeth nodded. "Everyone told me their version," she allowed. "Doesn't change the facts."

John knew that better than anyone. He didn't know what she wanted to hear, so he told her what he knew. "Don't go there."

"What?" She looked surprised by his words. Surprised enough to stop pacing and sit down again.

"You can't go back and change what happened," he said firmly. "You can't fight harder, or do something different. It's over. Let it go."

Elizabeth looked pissed for a minute, like she might argue with him, but then she sighed softly and whispered, "I know. But it's easier said than done."

John reached out and patted her arm, feeling a bit awkward. "Tell me something I don't know," he countered. When she looked at him he realized she understood what he was saying and that she was trying to accept it.

"Thanks," Elizabeth whispered, looking like there was more she wanted to say. But Beckett was suddenly striding into the room.

"Ever hear of knocking?" John said to him, pointedly. But he wasn't angry. Beckett had medical override and wasn't afraid to use it.

Carson grinned at him. "I've heard of it," he allowed. Then he turned to Elizabeth. "How are you feeling? Did you have your breakfast?"

Elizabeth's return smile was genuine. "I feel pretty good and, yes Carson, I had breakfast." She let amusement color her tone. Turning to John she said, "We'll talk later."

"When I'm released from confinement," he stated, keeping one eye on Beckett and resisting the urge to laugh when the good doctor glared at him.

"Later then," Elizabeth allowed. "Carson." That said she exited the room with her usual grace.

Carson was already examining John, eyeing his mug. "I didn't know you were a tea drinker, Colonel?"

John had forgotten the tea. He swallowed down the rest of it and set the mug aside. "On occasion," he allowed. "It's all I had in here." Not really lies, he told himself.

"I see you drank the juice," Carson continued.

"And went potty and took a shower and went back to bed like a good little boy," John sing-songed. "Can I go out and play now?"

Carson snorted, lifting up John's t-shirt to check his shoulder. "It looks good. Okay then. You can leave to get breakfast, eat something light. Then you can come back for a nap, then you can take a walk. I'll check you again later. If you continue to do so well I'll put you on light duty tomorrow and we'll go from there."

John was willing to accept that. Now that he could keep taking the Shuloc regularly, he knew he'd be fine and back on duty in no time. For now he slid out of bed, stomped his feet into some sneakers and headed out the door. For the first time in a long time, he was hungry.

OoO

John was back to full, active, duty in six days. During his down time he had returned to the chair and made more repairs with Atlantis guiding him to the necessary places. He made sure to rest in between, but he did go back to running with Ronon in the mornings. The exercise always made him feel better. As did the three cups of Shuloc tea a day. By the time Beckett returned him to full duty, John was raring to go.

Oddly though, as he stood in the Gateroom waiting for his team to assemble, John felt the urge to head for the chair room. He had been dreaming about connecting with Atlantis of late. Good dreams. Dreams where she showed him all kinds of wonderful new things to help Atlantis and her new inhabitants thrive. Things that he wanted to talk to Rodney about at some point, to see how much of it was nothing more than a dream, as opposed to what was real.

"Ready to go?"

Elizabeth's voice interrupted John's musings.

He grinned at her. "I was born ready," he replied.

"Just be careful," she cautioned, smiling back.

"Aren't I always?" John quipped. He saw the rest of his team assembling around him and he felt like something big was about to happen. He couldn't explain why. This mission was a cakewalk. No bad guys that they knew of. Nothing more than a hunt for people or things that they might be able to use or trade for.

But when they stepped through the gate and in to a whole new world, they were greeted with darkness.

Rodney's voice was low and tinny when he stated, "This didn't show up on the MALP."

John didn't get a chance to reply. He had sensed a strange odor, but before he could warn anyone he found himself falling into darkness.


	16. Chapter 15

Sheppard tensed as the lights flickered and dimmed. He peered down the semi-darkened corridor, but saw nothing. Tapping his radio, he hoped there was a logical explanation for this, but he was more than a little afraid it was a bad sign. "Sheppard to the control room, is anyone there?"

He request was met with silence, so he carefully resumed his journey toward the central control center. A scream shattered the quiet as he rounded the corner to see a Wraith feeding on a marine. He immediately began firing his P-90 at the creature, but only succeeded in slowing him down a bit. As Sheppard stopped firing, the Wraith dropped the dead, dried body of the soldier in the middle of the hallway and turned toward the colonel.

"I will savor your defiance," said the Wraith as he moved closer, his feeding hand extended. Sheppard began to back up, thinking he recognized the Wraith.

"Bob?"

The Wraith laughed as he continued to advance. "You remember."

Sheppard's back hit the wall behind him. "Yeah, I remember. I remember you're dead."

The Wraith laughed again. "No, but you soon will be." As he took the last step forward, he was suddenly hit from the side by a flying body and knocked to the ground. Sheppard flinched; having expected to feel the hand of the Wraith hit him in the chest. He quickly turned toward the bodies rolling and sliding on the floor to see Ford push himself away from Bob.

"Hey, sir, guess you didn't expect to see me."

"Ford? How did you get here?"

"Oh, you know me. I just keep popping up when you least expect me."

Ford and the Wraith had both managed to get to their feet. Bob suddenly roared and hit Ford hard, knocking him against the wall.

"Ford!" shouted Sheppard, drawing him 9mm and firing it at the Wraith as he walked towards them. Bob's body jerked in response to the impacts, but it didn't stop him from advancing on Ford and slamming his hand to his chest. Sheppard ran toward the Wraith only to get hit by a stunner blast. His vision faded for a few moments. He opened his eyes to see Bob hovering over him, grinning and bearing his ugly mouth full of sharp teeth. Sheppard managed to turn his head enough to see Ford's desiccated body slumped against the wall. He turned his head back just in time to see the Wraith's hand coming toward him. His world exploded into unbearable pain, radiating out from his chest to the rest of his body.

Sheppard sat up suddenly, a scream getting caught in his throat as he choked and gagged. Pain shot through his head in bright flashes and the world spun and tilted wildly to one side. Nausea rolled through his stomach and he clamped his mouth shut against the rising bile. Strong hands lowered him to the cold, hard floor.

"You should stay still for a few minutes until it passes." He recognized the low rumble of Ronon's voice. Following the man's advice, he lay almost perfectly still for the next several minutes. The dizziness and nausea finally did pass, leaving only the headache in their wake. He opened his eyes, grateful that it was relatively dark where ever they were. He slowly sat himself back up.

"Better?" asked Ronon.

"Yeah, thanks." He accepted Ronon's hand to help him to his feet. "Where are we?"

Ronon shrugged his shoulders. "Some kind of cell. Haven't seen anyone to find out any more."

Sheppard walked over to the door and peered out the small opening. "Any sign of Teyla or Rodney?"

"Nope."

Sheppard sighed. "Great. Wonder we've managed to walk into this time."

oOo

Elizabeth walked out of her office and stared down at the gate, sitting quiet and alone. "Anything?"

The tech on duty frowned and shook his head. "Nothing yet. How long are they overdue?"

Elizabeth sighed. "Three hours now. Have you tried to establish radio contact?"

"Yes, ma'am, but we got nothing."

"Okay, let me know if you hear anything." She stood silently for several minutes before tapping her radio. "Major Lorne, this is Dr. Weir. I need to see you in my office."

oOo

Teyla accepted the stale piece of bread and dried meat, along with the small cup of lukewarm water as she went through the line. Making her way to the side of the large room, she sat on the dirt floor with her back to the wall. McKay sat down next to her a few seconds later.

"Do they really expect us to eat this? I feed my cat better food than this." McKay wrinkled his nose in disgust.

Teyla looked down at the food in her hand. "It is all we have, Dr. McKay. We must eat and stay strong."

"For what? What kind of place is this?"

A young woman with short, dark hair sitting a few feet away answered him. "This is a slave camp. I take it you're new here." Her clothes were slightly ragged and dirty, but she had carefully cleaned her face and hands. She scooted over closer to Teyla. "I'm Skeyla."

Teyla nodded. "I am Teyla and this is Dr. . . . this is Rodney. We have only been here a few hours and it was not of our choosing."

"Well, you're not alone there," replied the Skeyla. "None of us are here by choice. We were captured by slave traders and sold to the mines. That's what you'll be doing tomorrow, working in the mines."

McKay's mouth dropped open and his face drained of color. "Mines? I can't work in mines. What kind of mines?"

Skeyla swallowed and took a drink. "We dig for amina. It is used in making buildings and machines and tools. It's very hard work and many people die. The air in the mines is bad and makes people sick after a while. That's why they have to have slaves to do the work."

Teyla looked at the woman, trying to determine how much she could trust her. "We were with two others when we were captured. I have not seen them here. Do they keep other workers in another place?"

Skeyla shook her head. "No, this is all the mine workers. The mine has a standing order for workers from the slave traders, since so many workers die. If your friends are not here, then they were sold on the open market. They could be anywhere."

McKay looked at Teyla, the fear in her eyes matching the fear on his face. "How are we going to find them?" he asked.

Teyla looked at him sharply. "First we have to find a way out of here. Then we can worry about finding Colonel Sheppard and Ronon."

McKay nodded as he slowly returned his gaze to the dried piece of meat still in his hand. They were so screwed.

oOo

Sheppard paced restlessly around the small room, rubbing his hands up and down his arms. The jittery feeling was back full force, making him feel almost like something was crawling just beneath his skin. His head was pounding, his stomach was rolling, and he was really hot. He felt like crap but he was too wired to sit still, he had to keep moving.

"Sheppard, what's wrong with you?"

Sheppard turned to find Ronon staring at him, his brow furrowed in either confusion or anger. "Nothing's wrong with me," he snapped.

"You can't sit still and you're sweating like it's hot in here, which it's not. You must be sick again."

"I'm not sick, I'm worried. In case you haven't noticed, we're being held prisoner by parties unknown and two of our teammates are missing. We don't even know if Teyla and Rodney are alive. That has me a little concerned." Sheppard turned away from Ronon, pacing back to the other end of the cell.

"That's not it. Something else is wrong." Ronon continued to hold Sheppard in his gaze, but the colonel refused to make eye contact. Ronon thought that pretty much proved his point.

The door burst open, startling both men. Four large guards poured in through the open entryway and shackled both men before they had time to react. They were led by chains through a narrow corridor, up some stairs, and through another corridor and then outside into a courtyard. A makeshift raised stage about twenty feet long and ten feet wide occupied one end. The area in front of the stage was full of people milling about. Ronon and Sheppard were lead to a line of men and told to stand behind the ones already assembled.

A few minutes later they understood what was happening as the first man in line was auctioned off to the highest bidder. A few seconds later, Sheppard felt cold metal slide down his back. He flinched and turned as the remains of his shirt were jerked off his back. The same thing was happening to Ronon and the others around them.

"Hey, what's that for?" Sheppard asked the guard with the knife.

The man smiled, his yellowed teeth making Sheppard even more nauseous. "The buyers like to see exactly what they're getting." He chuckled to himself. "Especially the women buyers, if you know what I mean." He winked at Sheppard, making him almost shudder. Sheppard didn't want to know what he meant.

"You're kind of skinny, but not bad other than that. You'll bring a good price."

The guard moved on down the line and Sheppard saw Ronon watching him, his eyes glinting in spite of their dire circumstances. "Don't say it. I'm not skinny." He turned his back to the big man so he wouldn't have to look at the smirk.

They were suddenly pushed forward, Sheppard falling against the stairs in front of him. As he regained his footing, he looked up at the stage. He was next. A lot of crap had happened to him in his lifetime, but being sold wasn't one of them. He really wasn't looking forward to this and he still felt like crap. What he wouldn't give for a cup of Shuloc tea, preferably in his room in Atlantis.

"You, get up here." The guard on stage grabbed him and almost pulled him up on the stage and across it. The sudden movement made Sheppard dizzy and he stumbled, falling against the guard, angering the big man. The guard elbowed Sheppard in the side of the head, knocking him to the ground. As he raised his hand to strike the colonel, Ronon was there blocking his blow. The former runner had moved so fast and his action had been so unexpected, that no one had stopped him.

As Ronon blocked the blow to Sheppard, another guard came up behind him and hit him over the head with his weapon, knocking Ronon to the ground beside Sheppard. A third guard entered the melee, bringing with him a long pole. Sheppard had managed to get to his feet and as the guard jabbed the pole forward, Sheppard caught the end of the pole in his hand and yanked it from the man's hands. The pole immediately lit up and began to hum. Sheppard's attention was drawn to the pole so that he didn't see the fourth guard, who punched him from behind in the kidney, dropping him immediately. Ronon began trying to get up, moving protectively toward Sheppard as he writhed on the stage, when a voice stopped them all.

"Stop this! I will buy this man, but only if you do not hurt him further." A tall, well-dressed man had stepped onto the stage. His voice was loud and booming, commanding everyone's attention. The man who seemed to be in charge of the sales came quickly over to him.

"But we haven't even started the bidding."

Sheppard had managed to sit up, his arm pressed to his side as he struggled to breathe. The tall man walked over to Sheppard and stood looking at him. "Are you injured?"

Sheppard spat some blood from his mouth, landing it just inches from the man's shoes. Looking up, he replied. "No, just bruised. But he's with me." He jerked one finger back toward Ronon, who was glaring at everyone.

The tall man laughed. "Well, normally I don't let prospective slaves tell me what to do, but in this case I could use the man. Okay, I'll take both men."

"But, but, but Sir Chamaelion, we haven't started the bidding yet. It must be done in proper turn." The short, plump man conducting the auction was huffing and puffing and turning red in the face. He seemed on the verge of hyperventilating.

The tall man turned to the audience. "I bid one hundred ranckles on these two men. Does anyone wish to outbid me?" There was a low murmur through the audience, but no one challenged the bid. Sheppard and Ronon both thought that must be a huge amount of money judging from the reaction of the crowd.

"Sold!" yelled the man taking the bids.

Hours later, Ronon and Sheppard were in the back of a wagon, headed down a rough dirt road toward the home of their new owner. Sir Chamaelion was riding beside the wagon on a beautiful animal that looked very much like a horse. One of his servants was driving and, as near as they could tell, was hitting every hole in the road.

Ronon sat with his back next to the side of the wagon, while Sheppard lay curled up in as tight a ball as he could make. The cramping had started a while earlier, and wave after wave rolled through his gut, making him moan in pain. They had already stopped once so he could hang over the side of the wagon and empty his stomach, not that much was there to begin with. His clothes were soaked in sweat and, as the sun began to get low in the sky and night air began to cool, he began to shiver.

Their new owner signaled for his driver to stop. He dismounted and walked over to the wagon, looking in at Sheppard's shivering form. "What's wrong with him?"

Ronon shook his head. "I'm not sure. He was sick with something a couple of weeks ago, but he had gotten over it. Maybe it's come back. He's got a fever."

The man looked worried. "We'll be to the city soon and we can send for the healer. He should know what to do. I can't let anything happen to him."

Ronon held the man's gaze without flinching. "Why are you so interested in him?"

The man immediately broke into a big grin. "He can make those things left by the old ones work. We have many things left to us, but very few who can use them. It is destined that I should find him and bring him back to the city. Our queen will be so happy with this magnificent find."

Sheppard moaned and pushed his face into the rough floor of the wagon, desperately trying to escape the pain. He opened his eyes and looked across the wagon at Ronon. "Are we there?" he asked breathlessly.

"Almost."

"Cold," he whispered, before pulling in tighter as another wave of cramps came crashing in.

Their new owner had given them thin shirts to replace the ones that had been cut off them, but they were little protection against the cool air, especially when soaked in sweat. Ronon wished he had a blanket or jacket to throw over Sheppard. "We should hurry," he said to the man standing there watching them.

"Yes, yes, but all means." He quickly mounted his animal and they began driving down the road again.

An hour later, they topped a hill and stopped. "That is your new home."

Ronon had been hovering over Sheppard, checking to see how high his fever was and making sure he was breathing okay. He twisted around in the wagon and looked down toward the valley below. There were many trees between them and the city, but the large towers that stretched above the trees were unmistakable. They looked exactly like the towers of Atlantis.

oOo

When they arrived at the city, they left the animals and wagon with some people working in a series of stables and paddocks outside. Ronon and the driver each took one of Sheppard's arms over their shoulder and helped him to a room in the city. It was hard to look around much since they were struggling to get Sheppard to their room, but what he saw looked as much like Atlantis as the outside had. When they finally deposited Sheppard into a bed, the driver left to find the healer.

Sheppard immediately curled up on his side, panting and clutching his stomach. Ronon put his hand to the colonel's head and found him still hot with fever. A servant girl brought a blanket and placed it over Sheppard, causing him to groan as the fabric touched him, almost as if it hurt.

Sheppard was only aware of pain and cold. His head hurt, but that paled in comparison to the cramps that rocked his midsection and radiated into his chest. It hurt to breathe or to move in any way. He felt pretty sure he was about to die and was wishing it would just go ahead and happen so at least the pain would be over. He could feel hands touching him and hear people talking, but it was blurred and fuzzy. He hurt too much to open his eyes, so he just rode wave after wave of pain, wishing it would end.

It wasn't long before the driver arrived with the healer, an older man with a satchel of medicines and instruments. He shooed everyone out while he examined Sheppard. Ronon waited in an adjacent room with the driver, the servant girl, and Chamaelion for quite a while. Eventually the doctor opened the door and motioned for the master of the house to come in.

"What is it?" asked Chamaelion. "Can you help him?" He was almost afraid to hear the answer. To make the find of their time only to have him die of some unknown illness would not fare well for him.

The healer smiled and patted him on the shoulder. "You are very lucky tonight. I can help him easily. He only needs the Shuloc leaf, he is in withdrawal."

Chamaelion sighed heavily and let himself sink into a chair. "Thank the gods. He'll be okay then?"

"Yes, yes, by morning probably. I'll leave you some if you don't have any. You know what to do. Let's make some and give it to him before I leave so I can see how he does. Then I can better tell you how much to give him until he has fully recovered and then we'll work on setting up his daily dose. We may need to talk with him and find out how much he has been taking. It is odd to find someone from another world taking the Shuloc. He must have been of some importance there. It's not like just anyone can afford it."

"Yes, these two new slaves become more and more curious. I am anxious to learn about them. I will get Jacine to make the Shuloc. Thank you my friend."

The healer just nodded his head. "This is what I do."

Chamaelion returned to the adjacent room and whispered some instructions to the servant girl. She nodded and went quickly into another room. He then walked over to Ronon. "You'll be happy to know the healer can help your friend. He has encountered this illness before and we are preparing to give him what he needs. He should be much better by morning. I know you must be tired, so Clavin will show you to your quarters. You will stay there until we come get you for the morning meal and then you can visit your friend."

Ronon narrowed his eyes and smiled. "What if I don't want to stay there?"

"The door will be locked, so you will have no choice. We treat our slaves well here, but you must still recognize your place and stay in it. Your life can be very pleasant or very unpleasant. It is your choice. I hope you will chose to make it pleasant. Clavin, take . . . "

"Ronon."

"Thank you. Take Ronon to his room please."

The driver nodded his head and motioned for Ronon to follow. The Satedan took one last look at the door to Sheppard's room and then slowly followed the man, hoping they were taking as good a care of his CO as they claimed. If not, there'd be hell to pay tomorrow.


	17. Chapter 16

The FB is wonderful. Thank you everyone. You rock like rocking things:D

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Rodney was scared. He didn't to work in the mines, yet here they were, and he was being shoved alongside Teyla and all the other unfortunates. "I can't do this!" He hissed at Teyla.

"We will find a way out of this," Teyla replied, her voice low and calm.

"There is no way out!" Rodney snapped, then he jumped when Teyla's hand clamped over his mouth to quiet him.

Teyla glared at Rodney. "You must calm yourself, Rodney. Trust me."

He knew he could do that, that he could trust her, but that didn't stop him from being afraid. Still, he pushed her hand away and whispered "Fine!"

"Stick close to me at all times," Teyla cautioned, as they moved with the others towards the mines. "If I tell you to do something, you must react without question."

"What do you know that I don't know?" Rodney countered, because he sensed that something was going on right under his nose, but somehow he was missing it.

Teyla touched his arm. "Just be ready," she said softly.

And in that moment, all hell broke loose. Rodney jumped as someone bellowed in anger, and he turned in time to see a huge man, one of slaves like himself, attacked two guards. He tossed them about as if they were rag dolls. More moved in to stop the giant, but the man just whacked them aside as well. Then other slaves joined in the melee and it became a free for all.

"This way!" Teyla hissed, grabbing Rodney by the arm and hauling him over to one of the wagons.

"What are you doing?" Rodney asked, as he watched her unhitch the horse-like beast that had been hauling the wagon.

Teyla gripped the thick mane and pulled herself up onto creatures back. "Come," she ordered, holding out a hand for Rodney to join her.

But Rodney shook his head, taking a step back. "I'm not getting on that thing! Are you insane?" He figured she had to be. Maybe something in the tepid water they had been given. He wondered if he was about to lose it too.

"I am going to the gate and back to Atlantis to get help!" Teyla snapped. "You can come with me, or you can stay here! But choose NOW!"

"Fine!" Rodney knew he couldn't stay here. So he gripped Teyla's hand and let her haul him up behind her. Her strength didn't really surprise him anymore. Then he wrapped his arms around her waist and held on for dear life as Teyla made the beast take off at a full run. He closed his eyes and was tempted to pray.

oOo

John came awake in slow measures, becoming aware of his physical condition in increments. The pain in his gut was blissfully gone, and the ache in his temples was bearable. His muscles felt a bit achy, like he'd run a triathlon or something, but they worked when he shifted about until he was sitting up. In a bed. John didn't remember going to sleep in a bed. Hell, to be honest, he didn't remember anything outside of being bought by some guy named Chameleon or something, and pain. Mostly he remembered the pain, twisting and clawing its way throughout his body. It felt so damn good not to be in pain anymore.

And that's when it hit him. The way he was feeling right now was familiar. Blessedly familiar. No way in hell was it possible, but John was positive he'd been given Shuloc. His felt comfortable in his skin again and he was relaxed and feeling almost serene.

Tossing back the covers, John was relieved to see that someone had put him in loose trousers. Stretching a bit to ease what little stiffness there was, he slid to the edge of the bed and stood up. Dizziness washed over him, but in gentle waves that were easy enough to ride out. Then he found himself drawn over to a large window to his left. Golden sunlight shimmered through the sheer curtains and John bathed in it's warmth for a moment. Until a voice called out to him. Turning he stared at the young woman who was holding a tray and smiling at him.

"I am Cilia," she said softly. "I will serve you while you are here, Sheppard."

"You know my name?" That surprised him and bothered him. John wasn't sure which one more.

Cilia nodded. "Your companion told Sir Chamaelion."

John sucked in a breath. He had almost forgotten. "Ronon?" At Cilia's nod he asked, "Where is he?"

"In the guard's quarters," she replied. "He is being trained as we speak."

"Trained for what?" John watched as she moved to a side table and set down the tray. Then she picked up a fragile looking cup wafting spirals of steam, and brought it to him. John eyed it with suspicion, his question about Ronon forgotten. "What is that?"

Cilia looked surprised by the question. "It is your Shuloc. The healer prescribed two cups a day. One now and one before sleep time."

"Oh." John reached for the cup and took a sip. Different flavor than any tea he was used too, a bit fruiter than he liked, but he could deal with it. Anything to keep the pain away.

"Ronon is being trained to be a palace guard," Cilia said, answering the question John had forgotten asking.

Gulping down the tea and setting the cup aside, John asked, "Why a guard? Why isn't he here with me? Or me with him, for that matter?"

Cilia looked amused. "You are of the royal bloodline," she replied, her tone implying he had asked a stupid question. "Your companion is not."

"Royal bloodline?" John had the feeling he had missed something while he had been out of it. Something big. Then he remembered making something light up on the slave block and he had a feeling that his magic gene was what she was talking about.

"If you are ready, I will escort you to the baths," Cilia countered, ignoring his comment. "The Queen awaits your presence and you must be ready to meet her."

John wasn't too sure he wanted to meet her, but he nodded at Cilia. "I could do with a bath," he allowed. Feeling clean always helped him feel more focused, and a bath should ease the ache in his muscles so he'd be fit and ready to fight. If a fight was necessary. He was rather hoping that, for once, it wouldn't be.

Cilia was moving to the arched doorway. "Come with me please," she bade him.

"Sure," John drawled, moving to follow her. He soon found himself in an area that reminded him of the roman styled baths. There was a pool of heated water that reminded him of a marble Jacuzzi and off to the side, draped over a short table, were his clothes. Cilia bid him to bathe and dress in short order.

So John did as he was told. For now. The water did leech away the body aches, although his temples still throbbed with light pain. A pain that John was getting used too. He forced himself out of the bath way earlier than he would have liked, then he dressed in the clothes provided. Form fitting black pants, a black tunic with a gold sash and knee-high black boots. There were no mirrors available and John decided that was probably a good thing. He really didn't want to know how ridiculous he must look.

Using the bath sheet to dry his hair, he then scrubbed his fingers through it. It would have to do. That done, he headed back to the other room to find the Chamaelion fellow waiting for him. "Hey," John offered in greeting, as he watched the older man's eyes roam over him.

"You clean up well," Sir Chamaelion said, a smile lighting up his face. "The Queen will be pleased."

"How nice for her," John drawled, because it was suddenly hitting him that he was really nothing more than a slave to the man before him. After all, the guy did buy him, and that just didn't sit right with John.

Sir Chamaelion was still studying John. "You look much better, do you feel better?" he queried. "If not, then we can adjust your Shuloc dosage."

John winced, feeling uncomfortable talking so openly about the herb. "You know about Shuloc," he said, stating the obvious. But he wasn't sure how else to ask.

"Of course," Sir Chamaelion replied. "Those of the royal bloodline have taken Shuloc for generations. It is of no surprise, really, that you know of it. But we can talk more later, Sheppard. The Queen awaits."

"Right." John let Chamaelion guide him out the door and down a long hallway where they were joined by what had to be the guardsmen. Six big guys dressed in crimson and gold. They wore short swords stuffed into their sashes. Swords that looked very very sharp.

Sir Chamaelion led John to a set of double doors that looked all too familiar, and it hit John like a slap in the face that they were traveling along corridors that were a mirror image of Atlantis. "What the hell..." he muttered beneath his breath, as they reached the doors and they slid open and John was stepping through into what used to be the Gate Room. At least it was the gate room on Atlantis. Here, it was decorated in lavish tapestries with gilded statues and candle light making the room look luminous. But unlike Atlantis, in the center was a chair. Like the one in Antarctica. And the one he had used in Atlantis. Only it was bigger and draped in gold and black and seated in it was a woman who looked to be in her early fifties with silver blond hair and pale blue eyes.

She was smiling as John approached. "Welcome, Sheppard," she greeted him.

"Uh...thanks," John replied, because he really had no idea what one said to royalty. He let himself study the chair as he got closer and realized that it wasn't lighting up. Which meant she didn't have the gene. Which was intriguing, because maybe he could bargain with his ability so that he and Ronon could go free. They needed to find Rodney and Teyla. John felt a twinge of guilt that he had forgotten the rest of his team for a moment.

"Come closer, Sheppard," the Queen beseeched him.

So John did. And when she held out her hand to him, he took it and was surprised when she encircled his wrist with a thin bad of what looked like shimmery gold. The moment it touched his skin it began to glow.

The Queen looked delighted. "He is the one," she said softly. "And so beautiful. He is everything I hoped for."

"Whoa...wait a minute," John protested, feeling himself blush at some of her comments. "I'm not the one anything."

"Come sit." The Queen rose from her throne, stepping off to the side before gesturing for John to take her place.

He hesitated, eyes moving to Chamaelion, and the man was nodding at him and looking quite pleased with himself. John really did not want to sit in the chair, but he did it anyway. He was completely outnumbered here and he needed to keep on everyone's good side if he hoped to have any chance of finding the rest of his team and getting them all safely back to Atlantis. Not surprisingly, the moment John sat down the chair lit up.

The cheers that rang out were deafening.

OoO

Ronon had been training with the other guards. Or, rather, he had been kicking their asses. A phrase he had learned from Sheppard. In fact he was just pulling his, supposed, trainer to his feet when he heard a rush of sound. Moving towards it, Ronon realized it was coming from the tower. "What is that?" he asked his trainer.

The head of the guards, a man called Delcar, looked at Ronon and grinned. "It is the cry of a people who have found the hope they have been seeking."

"What do you mean?" Ronon asked, feeling himself tense up. His gut was telling him something was wrong.

"You're friend is the one we have been waiting for," Delcar replied. "The one who will free us all from the tyranny of the Wraith." That said, he raised his voice in cheers of his own.

Ronon went back to his room, using a basin of water to clean up with. He had to find a way to free Sheppard and escape. He had a feeling if they didn't leave soon, then they would never leave. But Sheppard was not well and Ronon knew he had to get him back to Atlantis. Back home where they all belonged.


	18. Chapter 18

Thanks for all the patience you guys have shown. I know MY BAD for abandoning this. I had become apathetic to SGA for a time. Mainly because of some of the fans and such. Long and boring story. A bit of Guilt made me write this part. Let's see how far it makes me go. Hopefully to the end. I lost track of this story, but I'll try and give it a good ending. :D

**SLOW MOTION...part 17**

Rodney felt almost sick with relief as they reached the Gate and contacted Atlantis. Actually, Teyla did what needed to be done, Rodney just hunched over, trying to breathe. He felt like the very air was suffocating him and he couldn't help but keep staring behind them, expecting the bad guys to show up and capture them again. He wasn't even sure why he felt so panicked this time, he'd been in dangerous situations more times than he cared to count, since becoming a member of Sheppard's team. But this time was truly freaking him out the most.

"Come on, Rodney!" Teyla was calling to him, then grabbing him by the sleeve and hauling him through the gate. Rodney stumbled through beside her, feeling another bout of almost nauseating relief, when they stepped onto Atlantis and Elizabeth was there to greet them.

"What happened?" she asked.

Rodney waved at Teyla, who explained with more detail than he was capable of at the moment. Although half way through he interrupted because he realized Lorne and a team of marines were suited up and milling around the gate. "You were sending a rescue team," Rodney stated.

Elizabeth looked at him in surprise. "Of course. Did you think I wouldn't?"

"No...of course you would, of course." Rodney nodded and flapped a hand at her. He was feeling less nauseous and his fear had receded but was being replaced with rising anger. "They wanted to make us slaves!" he snapped. "Can you believe that? ME! A slave!"

"But we're safe now," Teyla reminded him, her voice soft and calm, but her eyes glittered with anger and determination.

Rodney watched her grab a P90 and a tack vest from a nearby marine and he realized she was suiting up to go back through the gate. He was about to argue she should just let Lorne go, when he found himself reaching for a gun as well. Sheppard never left a man behind and Rodney knew he couldn't live with himself if he didn't try and return the favor. "Are we ready?" he asked, feeling a bit apprehensive, but determined.

Elizabeth touched his arm. "Maybe you should stay here and let Lorne and his team go," she suggested.

"No, I'm going," Rodney insisted. "They'll need my help to find Sheppard. Oh, speaking of which. I need an LSD." He snapped his fingers and a tech appeared with one. Rodney realized he didn't have a vest on and he waved a hand at a nearby marine. "I need your vest. Now!" he ordered, and it felt pretty good to be in control again. It felt even better when the marine handed over the vest without comment. Probably was a new recruit, but no matter. Rodney shrugged the vest on, tucked the LSD in one pocket, then loked at Teyla. "I'm ready if you are." He wasn't really, but he was still going to do this.

"I'm ready," Teyla announced, then she nodded to Lorne.

Elizabeth caught the signals and ordered the tech to dial the gate. "Good luck," she said, as they moved towards the puddle.

Rodney echoed her sentiment as he stepped back through the gate.

OoO

After John made the chair light up, the Queen ordered a celebration with, proclaiming John as the guest of honor. He tried to convince her he didn't want a party, but she insisted and with a clap of her hands tables appeared and were soon weighted down with platters of food and drink. Food tasted as rich as it looked and made John feel nauseous after a few bites. Musicians showed up and began playing music that sounded too loud and abrasive to John's ears. He rubbed his temples and caught sight of the bracelet still wrapped around his right wrist. He toyed with it, trying to remove it, but the bloody thing didn't have any visible clasp he could find.

"Only the Queen can remove the bracelet," Sir Chamaelion said from John's left.

"Great," John drawled, after he got his heart back under control. Chamaelion would have made a great hunter. He moved so silently John hadn't known the man was their till he spoke and startled the shit out of him.

Chamaelion smiled, but it didn't reach his eyes. "We have waited a long time for you to come to us," he said.

John shook his head, instantly regretting it when pain spiked through his temples. "I'm not who you think I am," he insisted. "I'm just a soldier with the magic gene. I'm not a member of the royal bloodline. I'm not a royal anything. Okay...maybe a royal pain in the ass at times, but that's it."

"Pain in the ass?" Chamaelion echoed, looking confused.

"Never mind." John sighed and rubbed his temples.

Chamaelion watched him, frowning. "You are feeling ill?"

John winced at having been caught out, but felt it best to lie anyway. "I'm just tired. When does the party end?"

"You may excuse yourself at anytime, especially if you are feeling unwell," Chamaelion replied. "I can make your excuses to the Queen and escort you back to your chambers. As for the party itself, it will continue until the morning hours."

"Bunch of party animals," John muttered. "Swell." He hoped his chambers were sound proofed. Realizing that Chamaelion was waiting for him to give a specific answer, John nodded. "Yeah, make my excuses. But I can make my own way back to the room."

Chamaelion bowed to him. "As you wish. I will check on you shortly." With that he drifted away in search of the Queen.

John watched him go then headed to his rooms. He thought about slipping out of the castle, but gave up that idea when he realized guards were stationed at every window and door. He wouldn't be able to leave without being seen and he knew he wouldn't just be allowed to walk out. So he went to his rooms and heaved a sigh of relief when he was greeted with the sweet sound of silence once the doors were closed behind him.

For some reason he felt exhausted and jittery and his head ached, so John didn't hesitate to crawl onto the bed. He curled up on his side, closed his eyes and let sleep claim him. And it was pure bliss until groping hands jolted him awake.

"What the..." John was stunned to find the Queen hovering over him, her clumsy hands tugging at his shirt. When she leaned in with puckered lips, he pushed her back and slid off the bed. "Uh...what are you doing?" he demanded, even though it was pretty obvious.

"I have waited for you for so long," The Queen replied, following him off the bed and more than a bit unsteady on her feet. John realized she was drunk. As in, very. She staggered towards him, tripping on the ends of her gown. He caught her and she smiled up at him. "I didn't know you would be so pretty," she drawled.

John grimaced and was about to make a polite come back when one of her hands found his groin and he yelped. "Hey! Watch it!" He pushed her back against the bed so it would offer her support, but when he tried to let go of her, she clung to him like super glue. He really didn't want to have to hurt her, but she was starting to get way too personal and John could hear the Captain Kirk comments Rodney would make if he ever found out about this.

Just then he realized he wasn't alone. Sir Chamaelion appeared at his side like magic. 

"My lady," Chamaelion sing-songed, moving towards the Queen and taking her by the arm. "You must come with me now."

"No!" she protested, trying to pull free. "I want to be with my new King."

Chamaelion shook his head. "You know you must leave him pure until the ceremony."

John wondered what ceremony, but didn't ask. He just wanted the Queen out of here and Chamaelion was getting the job done.

"Pure..." the Queen echoed, sounding disappointed. But then she was nodding and allowing Chamaelion to pull her away.

"I'll be back momentarily," Chamaelion told John, as he guided the Queen out of the room.

John sighed and paced as he waited. He was too jittery to try sleeping again and his head ached to the point he was gritting his teeth.

Sir Chamaelion returned shortly, bearing a cup of tea. "Drink this, it will help," he told John.

"Thanks." John accepted it, knowing it was another dose of shuloc. He knew he needed it. "Look, can I walk in the gardens?" he asked. They were lit up almost bright enough to give the illusion of daylight. Plus he had asked Cilia about the gardens and he knew they were fenced in and guarded. So it wasn't like he was going to be able to make an escape attempt. Without weapons or knowledge of the area, John knew that to do so would be foolishness on his part anyway. He wouldn't even know where to begin looking for Ronon.

"You may walk in the gardens," Chamaelion conceded. "But do not be long. You need to rest. Come morning you will begin your new life here."

John grimaced at that thought, but didn't protest it. He figured actions spoke louder than words anyway, and he'd make sure everyone got the hint tomorrow that he wasn't going to be King. So all he did was smile at Chamaelion and thank him, before heading for the gardens. He heard Chamaelion say something about going off to attend to the Queen, but John tuned him out after that.

Sipping at his tea, John felt better with each passing minute. The gardens were massive and beautiful and he could almost feel content in this moment, if it wasn't for the fact he was a prisoner. As he strolled about he absently mused about the fact that he seemed to need more shuloc more often. And if he hadn't been feeling so crappy, that might have actually bothered him a bit. Maybe. Instead he let the thought slip away, even as he finished off the tea.

"More Shuloc?"

John jumped at the deep, familiar voice. Good thing his cup was empty or he would have been wearing the tea. Turning around, he was more than a little surprised to see Ronon standing before him. "How did you get here?" John countered, pitching his voice to a whisper. He ignored the fact that Ronon seemed to know about the stuff.

Ronon shrugged at the question. "Walked," he replied.

"How did you find me?" John was glancing around as he spoke, waiting for a guard to pop up.

"Knew where to look," Ronon was nothing if not succinct. Stepping closer, he grabbed the empty cup and stared into it. "You're addicted."

John was shocked and quickly becoming angry. "You don't know what you're talking about!"

Ronon almost laughed at that. "I talked to my trainer and he explained everything. You fit right in here, Sheppard. Bloodline and all. From what I was told the entire royal family is addicted."

"I'm not addicted!" John snapped, then he clapped a hand over his mouth. He didn't want to attract unwanted attention. "Didn't you run into any guards?" he asked.

"Ran into a few of them," Ronon allowed. "They're napping at the moment."

John felt himself relax a bit at that. "How much time do we have?" He knew Ronon would be missed at some point.

But the big guy just shrugged at him. "Time enough to get out of here. If you're feeling up to it."

"Why wouldn't I be?" John was truly surprised that Ronon would ask that.

"I saw how sick you were till you got your fix," Ronon reminded him.

John felt anger welling up again. "I'm not a god damn addict!" he snarled.

Ronon being Ronon, he wasn't the least bit impressed by John's fury. "Tell that to Beckett when we get back." He shifted suddenly, turning and letting his eyes pierce the darkness that outlined the boundaries of the garden. "We should move now. You ready?"

"More than ready," John replied. He gestured for Ronon to lead the way and he felt relief wash over him as they reached a break in the fence where two guards lay unconscious and bound. A little voice in John's head whispered that this was too easy, but he ignored the voice in favor of following Ronon into the welcome darkness that would cover them as they slipped away.

For a time they moved silently, John following Ronon's footsteps exactly in the heavy darkness. But once he felt they were far enough away from the castle, he had to ask, "Did you hear anything about Teyla and Rodney?"

Ronon stopped running, crouching down and gesturing for John to do the same. His eyes continued searching the darkness as he replied, "Nothing definite. My trainer figures they might have gotten sold as mine slaves."

"Rodney will love that," John commented, all the while hoping it wasn't true. He trusted Teyla to take care of Rodney though. Realistically the best thing for him and Ronon to do was return to Atlantis. With a bit of luck, Teyla and Rodney were already there, waiting on them.

"Shh!" Ronon suddenly hissed, pushing John behind him. They crouched lower and there was a shuffling sound that soon passed by them and faded away.

John tried to pierce the darkness with his gaze, but it was too thick so he counted on Ronon for identification. "Human or animal?"

Ronon was standing, drawing John up with him. "Animal."

"Hope it was friendly," John muttered.

"Come on," Ronon replied, tugging John along as he started to run again.

They didn't speak as they continued traveling until the night sky started to brighten. Ronon let them break for a few minutes and John wished he had thought to bring something to drink with him. He'd have given his right arm for a bottle of water.

Apparently Ronon could read minds because he pulled out what looked like a large flask and handed it to John. "Just a few sips," he said.

"Thanks," John replied, ignoring the way his hand shook as he took it. He was feeling jittery again and he wondered how much time had passed. He knew it had to be hours. His headache was back, his stomach was cramping and he felt sick. Bringing the flask to his mouth he took a sip and was surprised to realize it was tea. A glance at Ronon confirmed what he suspected. "You're giving me Shuloc?"

"I need you on your feet," Ronon replied. "You don't look so good right now and we're still a couple of hours from the gate."

John had to take Ronon's word for that because the ride to the palace was nothing but a blur of remembered pain. He said nothing though and just took a few more sips of the tea. He let Ronon take the flask back as he closed his eyes and waited for the pain to fade. A few minutes later and he stopped shaking. He opened his eyes to see Ronon watching him intently. John wondered if there was disappointment shimmering in the dark gaze as well, or just a reflection of the shadows. He decided not too look too closely. "We should get moving," he said in response to Ronon's unasked question.

Ronon nodded and rose to his feet with the grace of a cat, before heading out once more.

Ignoring the way his own muscles protested, John followed.

OoO

"We're never going to find them," Rodney complained, for what he knew was about the dozenth time. But he ignored Lorne's glare and he grimaced at the placating look on Teyla's face.

"We know that they were taken to the Palace," Teyla said firmly.

Rodney snorted. "Who's to say that old coot wasn't lying? He just wanted to stare at your b--" He broke off before putting both his feet in his mouth, nearly rolling his own eyes in an attempt not to look at Teyla's cleavage. Although it was hard not to look sometimes, given as how it was prominently on display. And Rodney wished he could scrub his brain to erase such thoughts. It wasn't like him, but he knew he was tired and hungry and feeling frustrated and worried. All things he hated feeling.

Lorne smirked at McKay before waving them over to a shady spot beneath some kind of overgrown tree. "We'll find them," he stated firmly. "Although I wouldn't bet against Sheppard and Dex finding their own way out."

"Smart man, Major," drawled a familiar laconic voice.

"Sheppard?" Rodney had been about to slump down against the tree but he straightened and whirled around, ignoring his protesting back muscles, to see Sheppard and Ronon approaching with grins on their faces.

John grinned at McKay. "It's me. Did you miss us?"

Teyla was smiling back at him. "It's good to see you both. You are well?"

"Well enough," John replied. He looked at Lorne. "Tell me you have the jumper parked somewhere close by."

"We walked," Lorne replied, looking regretful.

Rodney didn't give Sheppard a chance to respond to that. He opened his mouth to make some taunting remark about the Colonel's attire when the world suddenly titled to the left. With a rather undignified squeak, Rodney hit the ground hard. Then darkness claimed him.

**THE END...of part 17**


	19. Chapter 19

**SLOW MOTION...part 18**

John stared at Rodney's prone form and felt a stab of guilt over the fact that he was almost glad the man had fainted. Glad because it drew attention away from himself. He wasn't thrilled with the way everyone had been eyeballing him. It was bad enough he could feel Ronon's eyes burning into him almost every moment. He knew the Satedan was watching him for signs of weakness. Sadly, John had to focus all his will power in not giving in to the throbbing ache in his head and the way his muscles burned and his stomach twisted with nausea and pain. He didn't even want to think about how he felt jittery enough to jump out of his skin. It bothered John a bit that the Shuloc seemed to be wearing off so fast. He told himself it was probably because Ronon had watered down the tea. Maybe he was trying to wean him off in his own way. John wasn't sure if he should be pissed or grateful if it was true.

"Have another swallow," Ronon whispered, suddenly appearing right beside John and using his body as a shield to the others.

A part of John considered refusing the flask, but they weren't home yet and he knew he needed to keep up appearances. So he grabbed the flask, gulped down what he could in two swallows, then handed it back. By the time Rodney was on his feet again, John felt better. The pain was fading and his focus was much sharper now. He moved to Rodney's side and touched his shoulder. "You okay?"

Rodney looked embarrassed and annoyed. "Oh yes!" he snapped. "I'm just perfect! Did you know they were going to make me a slave in the mines? How did you and Ronon skip that fate?"

"Sheppard is royalty," Ronon stated, earning a glare from John.

"So it's true!" Now Rodney had passed annoyed and he was heading into irritated. "You two were taken to the palace!" It sounded like an accusation.

John had to fight the urge to fidget. "Look, we'll explain everything once we're back on Atlantis. I'm guessing the guards have noticed Ronon and I are missing by now and I really don't want to run into them. Do you?"

Rodney turned a bit pale at that. "No...not really. Let's go home." He turned and headed off, only to have Teyla head him off and turn him around so he was heading in the right direction.

"I think going home is a great idea," Lorne confirmed, as he and the other marines formed a protective circle around John, Ronon, Teyla and Rodney.

"My sentiments exactly, Major," John said, stepping up his pace. He wanted back on Atlantis more than anything. A hot shower, another cup of Shuloc and about twelve hours of uninterrupted sleep would do wonders.

It took four hours to get to the gate and during a quick break, John finished off the tea in Ronon's flask. He was grateful that the big guy just handed it off to him without saying a word. No one needed to know about this, and John intended to explain that to Ronon back on Atlantis. He just wanted to be back in the city where it was relatively safe, before getting into it. Not to mention the fact it needed to be a private conversation.

Rodney fell into step with John during the last hour of the trek and asked a million questions, all of which John refused to answer. He knew Elizabeth would expect a full debrief when they got back and he was only going to tell his story once. So he was relieved when they reached the gate. He felt impatient while he waited for Rodney to dial it up and send his IDC. Then they were stepping through and John had never been so happy to be back on Atlantis. So happy that he had to force himself not to drop to his knees and kiss the damn floor.

"Welcome back, John," Elizabeth offered in greeting. She said the same to Ronon, then to the team in general. But her focus was mostly on John and he could almost feel the intensity of her gaze. 

"Glad to be back," he replied.

Elizabeth nodded. "Are you okay?"

John decided to be honest. It was the best deflection in this case. "I'm tired, but I think we all are. It was a long walk."

"Do you want to rest before you debrief?" She was giving him a choice, even though it was obvious she was anxious to know what had happened on the planet.

"I'd just as soon get it over with now," John replied.

Relief flickered over Elizabeth's face, then she was leading them all into the conference room. Once they were seated she asked John to begin.

He told them what he knew, letting Ronon fill in the blanks from the time they were captured till they reached the palace. He was relieved when Ronon explained that John had been ill during the journey and left it at that.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Elizabeth asked, her concern shining through in her eyes and her voice. "I can call Beckett."

"I'm fine," John assured her, but he wanted to curse out loud. Elizabeth's mention of Beckett reminded John that he would have to undergo a post mission check up. But if he got to it soon, he'd skate through it. The Shuloc was still in effect so he was feeling okay. Tired and achy, but okay.

Rodney had been fidgeting in his chair, looking impatient. "So what happened at the palace?" he interjected. "Ronon said you were royalty."

John grimaced then explained about the Queen and the bloodline thing, then he showed them the bracelet. He tugged on it, rather hoping the damn thing would finally fall off. "Chamaelion said only the Queen could remove it."

"Really?" It was Rodney who spoke, as he leaned forward and grabbed John's arm, head bent to study the bracelet. He moved a finger over it. "There's no opening. Interesting."

"Totally," John drawled, not finding anything about it at all interesting.

Rodney glared at him, looking annoyed now. "So while Teyla and I were going to be sentenced to mining as slaves, you were being treated like a king? What is it with you and the Kirk syndrome? Seriously!"

It was John's turn to glare at Rodney. "Just for the record, I wasn't trying to seduce her and it wasn't about that. The palace is a replica of the main tower here in Atlantis. Complete with a chair, which I made light up. Hence their belief that I'm a member of their royal bloodline." He turned away from Rodney's stunned expression to focus on Elizabeth. "I think it might be a good idea to send a team back there. But no one with the gene. Just some marines and some scientists and this time take a jumper so they can cloak themselves. Chamealion seemed like a decent guy and I think he'd be able to convince the Queen to let us take a look around."

"Maybe they have a spare ZPM lying around!" Rodney interjected, sounded excited.

"Maybe," John allowed. Since coming to the Pegasus galaxy, he'd learned anything was possible.

Elizabeth looked thoughtful, one hand fisting her chin. "I'll consider it," she allowed. "After Carson's had a chance to look you all over and confirm that you're okay."

Rodney pushed out of his chair. "Well I'm not okay," he stated. "I'm tired and hungry and I'm going to get Carson to give me the good drugs."

"He fainted," John piped up. He figured focusing all the attention on Rodney was a good idea.

"Fainted?" Elizabeth echoed, looking stunned. But John's intention to divert her attention worked. She got up and went to Rodney, eyes full of concern. "Do you need an escort?"

Ronon was beside McKay in a heartbeat. "I'll take him," he offered.

Teyla stood up as well. "We will go together," she said firmly, and her eyes included John.

"Good idea," he said, moving to Ronon's other side. He drew the Satedan aside just long enough to whisper, "Don't mention the Shuloc to Beckett."

"Is that an order?" Ronon shot back, eyes locked on John's face with a scrutiny that had him fidgeting.

Refusing to be intimidated, John made himself hold the Runner's gaze as he replied, "Do I have to make it one?"

Ronon held the gaze for a moment longer, then he turned away without saying a word. With Teyla he escorted Rodney out of the room.

John believed Ronon would obey him, so he let himself relax as he made to follow them. Only to have Elizabeth call him back as he reached the doorway. "Something wrong?" he asked, as he turned back around to face her.

"No, I just wanted to see the bracelet," Elizabeth replied, moving to his side and reaching for his arm. She took a moment to run her fingers over the band, her touch light. Then she fingered the material of his tunic. "The fabric is beautiful, I haven't seen anything like it yet in this galaxy," she commented.

"I guess," John replied. His head was starting to throb and he really just wanted to get his post check over with so he could go to his room.

Elizabeth eyed him with concern. "Are you sure you're okay?"

John nodded, winced as the motion sent pain stabbing through his temples, and attempted a smile. "Just tired."

"You haven't really had time to get back up to par with everything that's happened," Elizabeth allowed. "Then Ronon did say you were sick on the planet."

"But I'm fine now," John insisted. Elizabeth was still holding his sleeve so he tugged his hand away. "We done?"

She studied him a moment, then nodded. "I'm going to do some research in the Atlantis data base. See if I can find anything on the metal that bracelet is made of. Between that and the fabric alone, I'm rather anxious to go back to the planet. Once we're sure no one will be forced into slavery again."

John was agreeable to that. "Let me know what you come up with," he said, slowing inching his way to the door. He caught her eyes and when she nodded again, he slipped out. He was half considering just heading straight for his room, but he knew Carson would pitch a fit if he didn't show up, so John made himself go to the infirmary. He was surprised to see it was empty, other than Beckett, who appeared to be waiting on him. "Where'd my team go?" John asked, even as he let himself be pushed over to a bed in the corner.

"They've been checked, cleared, and sent to their rooms to rest," Carson replied. He then proceeded to do the standard check list. Heart, lungs, eyes, throat, ears, BP and temp. "How are you feeling?" Carson asked, after reading the thermometer.

"Tired," John admitted. It was best to be as honest as one could with Carson. When he caught you out in a lie, he reamed you for it. John didn't have the energy to deal with that right now. The pain in his head was bad enough that he forgot himself and pressed his palms into his temples in an attempt to ease the throbbing.

Carson sighed and pulled John's hands away, then said, "Ronon told me about the Shuloc."

Body stiffening in shock, John stared at Beckett. He could see anger and something else in the Doc's eyes. Something he couldn't identify. But he had to deal with this calmly. Later, when he was feeling better, he would confront Ronon. "What did he tell you?"

"That you're addicted to the stuff," Carson shot back. "That you were sick on the planet because of withdrawals, and let me tell you, Colonel...I'm almost relieved to learn about this."

"Relieved?" That surprised John enough to let his guard down. "What are you talking about?"

Carson pinned him with a look. "That stomach virus I couldn't figure out...you had withdrawal symptoms. I'd even considered that at one point but your blood tests had come back clean. I just wish we knew more about this drug."

John felt anger flare through him. "It's not a drug! It's a goddamn tea and it makes me feel better! End of story! I don't know what bullshit Ronon told you, but he's wrong!" As he spoke, John slid off the bed but when his feet hit the floor his legs buckled and he would have fallen had Beckett not grabbed him by the arm.

"Lay back down, son," Carson ordered, pretty much lifting John back onto the bed. And given his tone of voice, he wasn't in the mood to be argued with. "You're going to be my guest for the next few days, Colonel," Carson said firmly.

"No." John felt like shit, and nausea was now coiling through his gut and pushing bile into his throat, but he wasn't about to give in. "I'm not sick."

Carson sighed and grabbed a stool over to sit on. He then focused his full attention on John. "Denial is a symptom with addicts. And don't even bother to argue with me because it's a fact you can't argue. I think this Shuloc is different from being addicted to pain killers or such. Ronon told me what he found out about it and I'm going to run some tests and maybe I'll find something more now that I know what to look for. While I'm doing that you're going to stay here and work your way through the withdrawals. We'll get you off the stuff and on the road to recovery."

John wanted to argue everything Carson was saying, but at that very moment he lost the battle to keep his stomach contents in his stomach. Luckily the Doc picked up on his signal, which was clapping a hand over his mouth, and he got a basin under John's chin just before he spewed. The dry heaves that hit after his stomach was emptied, left John feeling truly wretched. To the point where he zoned out of it a bit and then was grateful when Carson gave him an injection and said it was an anti-emetic. He hoped it worked fast.

During the course of the next twenty minutes, John found himself stripped and dressed in scrubs, then hooked up to two IV lines. He also dry heaved two more times. He was about ready to beg Carson to knock him out when the Scotsman seemed to read his mind.

"I can't give you anything, Colonel," Carson said with what sounded like sincere regret. "Adding to the substance in your body is a bad idea. I'm afraid that's nothing but for you to suffer through this."

"Figures," John croaked, then he coughed, which ended up making him gag again. His head was pounding, hard enough to make him have to blink hard against tears. This was the worst he had felt yet. He closed his eyes and tried to think about happy, pain-free, things, but he couldn't focus on anything. It hurt just to breathe. A hand on his wrist made him jerk in reaction and his eyes flew open.

Carson was studying the bracelet. "Doesn't look like there's a way to open it. When you're feeling better we'll see if we can get it off."

John didn't respond. He knew talking would make him hurt more, and no doubt make him puke more too. Instead her curled up on his side and wished for oblivion to claim him.

He didn't get his wish.

**THE END...of part 18**


	20. Chapter 20

want to thank everyone for the awesome reviews. Since FF has it's on and off problems, I wasn't sure anything would get through to people, so I want to say THANK YOU SO MUCH here. Where I know you'll see it. Thank you:D And I'm sorry for the delay. The past 2 weeks have been insane.

**SLOW MOTION...part 19**

John couldn't ever remember feeling more miserable than he did right now. One of the nurses had told him it had been six hours since the withdrawal had started. Felt more like six days. The cramping, pain and nausea had John curled up on his side, one hand clenching the bedrail. His throat burned from all the dry heaving he did, and he couldn't even sip water. The moment it hit his stomach it came back up and his gagging made his head hurt so bad that he couldn't hold back the tears that would track down his face.

"John?"

He recognized Elizabeth's voice but he didn't open his eyes. He didn't want to see her or anyone. Mainly, he didn't want anyone to see him like this. John could no longer deny what was happening or that he had done this to himself, and he was angry at himself for being so weak. He wanted to be angry and sick and suffering alone.

A hand touched his arm and John flinched, but he lacked the strength to pull away. He opened his eyes to slits and saw Elizabeth watching him. He saw the concern in her gaze and hated himself for the lines of worry in her face that made her look older than she was. He knew he had put them there. He closed his eyes again so he didn't have to see them.

"Can I get you anything?" Elizabeth asked, obviously ignoring the fact that he was being rude.

"No," John muttered, opening his eyes again. Just then pain twisted in his gut and he couldn't swallow back a moan. He felt her hand shift to his forehead, felt her fingers combing through his damp hair. Surprisingly, it helped soothe him, but it didn't help the pain. It felt as if someone were twisting a knife in his gut.

Elizabeth sighed softly. "I wish there was something we could do to help you through this."

John didn't want to hear that. "My fault," he croaked. There was no sense in denying it any longer.

"Can I ask you something?" Elizabeth's tone was suddenly sharp.

It caught John's interest and he made himself focus through the pain so he could look her in the eye as he nodded. "Ask away." He was pretty sure he wasn't going to like the question, but damn if she didn't have the right to ask it.

There was a moment of heavy silence before Elizabeth blurted out, "Why did you take the Shuloc?"

That was the 64, 000 dollar question. John rather wished he had an answer to give her. He hadn't even had time to think about why. Hell, he'd barely even begun to accept the fact that taking the Shuloc made him an addict. Shifting on the mattress, John reached for the edge of the blanket with shaky fingers, tugging it higher over his shoulder. One of the symptoms he was suffering was going from hot to cold in a flash. Now he was cold again. Trembling hard enough to rattle the bed rail. He watched Elizabeth turn away and thought maybe she'd gotten called and he hadn't heard it, but then she was back with another blanket, spreading it over him. It didn't really help warm him, but he appreciated the gesture. "Don't know," he replied.

"How long have you been taking it?" she countered.

"Months." John couldn't even really remember when it had started.

A frown twisted Elizabeth's mouth. "Where did you get the drug?"

That question pissed John off a bit. It made it sound like he went looking for it or something. Like he had meant for this to happen. "It was just some tea someone gave me on one of our missions." John wasn't about to name names. Who gave it to him really didn't matter, but then it hit him why Elizabeth wanted to know. "I'm not...I won't go back for more. I'm not some druggie hard up for a fix or something!" Anger made his tone razor sharp and he watched Elizabeth react to it.

"That's not what I think, John," she said firmly. "I'm just trying to figure out how this happened. I know you didn't mean for it to get like this. At least, I don't think you did."

He realized she was leaving it open for him to clear things up for the both of them. Shifting again in an attempt to ease the pain in his gut, John swallowed back a moan then found himself sitting up and reaching for the basin on his bed stand. Elizabeth was there before him, holding it as he retched. By the time he was finished gagging up bile, John felt weaker than ever and so tired that he wished he could close his eyes and slip into oblivion.

"Would you like a sip of water?" Elizabeth was eyeing him with concern. When he nodded, she moved to help him sit up, supporting most of his weight with one arm while she held the glass for him to take a few sips.

"Thanks," John managed to whisper, as she eased him back against the pillows. He hated this. Hated being so sick and weak, and most of all he hated that this was his own fault. "I fucked up," he said simply.

A sad smile curved Elizabeth's mouth. "Must have been your turn," she replied.

He knew she had a boat load of guilt resting on her shoulders, so he knew she understood what he was saying. "It made me feel better," John whispered. "I didn't realize why. All...all that mattered was that it helped me to function."

"But you had to know what it was doing to you after a while." Elizabeth sounded both surprised and disappointed.

"I guess I didn't want to know." That was a hard confession to make and it didn't make John feel any better after making it, but he watched Elizabeth's reaction. She seemed to understand. He wished he did. Right now he was too tired to care, one way or another.

Hunching down under the blanket, John closed his eyes. He wanted Elizabeth to go away.

She brushed his hair back then said, "I'll stop by later. Try to get some rest."

He listened to her footsteps as they faded away. Her words seemed to set off a fresh hell and time lost all meaning as John writhed in pain, zoning in and out of reality as his body and mind screamed for relief. But there was nothing but an endless wave of pain until his body finally gave up and sent him spiraling into blessed darkness.

OoO

Elizabeth looked at Carson who was sitting across from her desk. Twenty-four hours had passed since John had gone into withdrawal and the doctor had come to tell her that the Colonel had finally slipped into unconsciousness. "Is that a good thing or a bad thing?" she asked.

"Hopefully good," Carson replied, looking uncertain. "He's worn out and he's in a deep sleep, but he is responsive. Which is good. I don't expect him to wake up for some time, unless he starts hurting again."

"Do you think that's going to happen?" Elizabeth sincerely hoped not. She had checked in on John at the seventeen hour mark and hadn't gone back. At seventeen hours of straight suffering, he had looked like a shadow of himself. Pale as the sheets, dark circles stained under his eyes, eyes glassy with pain and shaking so bad she thought he might shatter apart. It had hurt to see him like that. To watch him biting his lips hard enough to bleed. To hear the whimpers he couldn't swallow down any more. He was in loose restraints because he had started scratching at his arms hard enough to make them bleed, and there had even been a few hallucinations where he'd tried to get out of bed. Elizabeth blinked hard to banish the images from her head.

Carson was watching her, looking concerned. He relaxed a bit when she forced a smile. "I don't know what I expect," he admitted. "Thanks to Teyla going to talk to Halling, I know a bit more about what Shuloc is and how it will affect the Colonel, but as far as the withdrawal stage...I'm just trying to make him comfortable. So far it has played out similar to heroin withdrawal, only more intense. But I'm hopeful he's passed through the worst of it now."

Elizabeth hoped he was right. "So what do we do next?"

"Just get him healthy again," Carson stated. "Not that it's going to be easy. He's dehydrated and malnourished and exhausted. Getting him back to par is going to take some time."

"And there's no weaning him off the Shuloc, right?" Elizabeth had rather hoped they could wean John off slowly, but Halling had told Teyla that to give John more would just make things worse. Basically, he had to get off it cold turkey.

Carson nodded. "That's right. I think it's probably best anyway. I've run tests on the shuloc and it's got me stymied."

Elizabeth wasn't surprised. Nothing was easy in the Pegasus galaxy. Why would this be any different. "What about the bracelet? Did Rodney get a chance to study it?"

"He's doing that right now," Carson replied. "He seemed excited about it, but he didn't tell me anything before I came here." That said, Carson's eyes fell on the drawstring bag on Elizabeth's desk. "I take it that's the Shuloc the Colonel had stashed?"

"Yes." Elizabeth grimaced as she stared at the bag. "I had Ronon search John's room. That's all he found." She hadn't liked giving that order, but Ronon had reminded her it needed to be done. She knew he hadn't been happy about it either, but they to make sure John couldn't take the stuff again. He'd suffered enough.

Carson reached for the bag. "I'll take care of this, if you don't mind."

She didn't mind in the least. She just wanted it go. Waving a hand at it, Elizabeth replied, "Please do."

"I'll be going back to check on the Colonel." Carson rose from his seat. "Would you like hourly updates?"

"Yes, please." Elizabeth knew she wouldn't be able to relax without knowing John's condition.

Carson smiled his understanding. He headed for the door but turned back to caution," Eat and make sure to rest. You don't need to get run down."

Elizabeth smiled back and nodded. "I'll do that," she promised. "Send Rodney to me when he's done with the Colonel," she requested.

"I'll do that," Carson promised. Then he was gone.

Elizabeth sighed and rubbed her temples, wishing not for the first time since coming here, that she could turn back time and start over. But she knew it was an empty desire. She shoved it aside and tried to focus on the files that needed her attention. Her thoughts continued to stray to John. She needed him to be okay. For her sake and for the sake of Atlantis. So Elizabeth took a moment and said a silent prayer.

OoO

Three days passed before John became coherent enough to realize he felt better. Or rather, better in a - not screaming from the pain in his gut - kind of way. But he still felt like crap. His body ached, his head throbbed, and he felt tired all the time. He couldn't keep any food down and even drinking water gave him trouble, which meant he was still hooked up to an IV. Worse, he had a catheter. John was no expert on addictions, but he felt certain he should be feeling better than this by now. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

"Colonel?"

He opened his eyes and blinked hard to bring Carson's face into focus. "Hey," John croaked.

Carson looked unhappy. "Not feeling any better?"

"No." It took what felt like a monumental effort to say that one word and John let his eyes slide closed again.

"Rest then." Carson patted John's shoulder and walked away.

It took biting down on his lip to keep from calling after Carson. To keep John from begging him to drug him to the gills. The first time he'd been even a little aware of things, John had asked for something and Carson had refused saying it was too soon to give him anything. So John didn't ask now. He knew Carson would give him something if he could have it, but that thought brought no hope or comfort. John squeezed his eyes tight to hold back the burn of tears.

OoO

"He's not getting better." Rodney said what they all were thinking. He stared at the others gathered around the conference table. Ronon, Teyla, Elizabeth and Carson. They all looked as worried as Rodney felt, which made him all the more worried.

Carson sighed then scrubbed a hand over his face. "No, Rodney...Colonel Sheppard is not getting better," he confirmed.

Rodney moved to confront the doctor, hands on hips. "Why not? He should be getting at least a bit better by now. But he's getting worse! WORSE!"

"Rodney." It was Elizabeth who chided him, waving a hand at him to make him back off.

"He should be better," Rodney insisted, although he did move to sit down, folding his arms over his chest and feeling disgruntled. He had visited Sheppard this morning and the man looked like hell. Pale and thin and fragile looking. It scared Rodney to see Sheppard like that. And when he'd looked at him the hazel eyes had been dull and lifeless. The spark that was Colonel John Sheppard had gone out.

"Halling does not understand why John is still sick," Teyla spoke up. "He has asked others and they have all said the same, that the withdrawal would be severe but after twenty-four hours he should start to show an improvement. Even those who have taken Shuloc for years have gotten better after a day or two off it."

Elizabeth got up and began to pace before asking a question. "What about cravings? Will he react like most addicts do?" She asked the question of both Teyla and Carson.

Carson shrugged. "I don't know enough about the Shuloc to say, but I would imagine the cravings would be there. At least for a while."

Teyla nodded. "Halling said the same, but he also said that it depends on the individual. Sheppard is a strong man with a strong will. He should be able to break free of it if he wishes to do so."

"He's not very strong right now," Rodney interjected, feeling pissed off. Not at Sheppard but at the situation in general. And at Carson, even though what happened wasn't his fault. Rodney just needed someone to blame.

"I wish there was something I could do," Carson said, locking eyes with Rodney.

Rodney didn't look away. "Can't you give him something? I mean, you must have some voodoo magic cure all kind of drug. Give him something. Help him get some sleep. Maybe it's that simple!"

But Carson shook his head. "Adding any type of drug to his system right now will only make things worse. Especially since I don't know exactly what might happen. I can't risk it. As you said, he's not strong enough right now."

"So what do we do?" Ronon cut through the crap like always, to get to the point.

"We wait," Carson said, sounding dejected.

Rodney shot out of his chair and headed for the door. He didn't say goodbye to anyone. He needed to be doing something. Anything, just to get the image of Sheppard out of his head.

OoO

John felt almost at peace. He felt something he had been missing. Her presence. Atlantis. She was with him again and he embraced her warmth, letting her seep into his mind and soul. She embraced him back and there was a moment when John felt nothing. No pain, no sickness, no cravings. There was nothing but a sense of sweet numbness. But then that faded away and he felt a buzz of something all too familiar. He felt pain crackling through his nerve endings, barrelling their way into his head. Then there was nothing but pain. White-hot and burning through him.

He screamed.

Beckett came running and froze at the sight of Sheppard. The sound of the man's scream still echoed in Carson's head as he watched blood drip from Sheppard's nose, staining the front of the white hospital gown crimson.

**THE END...of part 19**


	21. Chapter 21

**SLOW MOTION...part 20**

John came back to awareness slowly. Something had pulled him out of the warm darkness he had been floating in. Voices. That was is. The muffled sound of voices had penetrated sweet oblivion. At first he had felt irritated at being disturbed and that had pushed him towards consciousness. But now he was aching and uncomfortable and he wanted the voices to stop. But it took a moment to get his voice to work properly. After what felt like a Herculean effort, John managed to croak out a pitiful, "Hey..."

It was enough to get the voices to stop. If only for a moment. Then they got louder. Well, one did. A familiar voice. Beckett.

"Colonel? Can you hear me lad?" A heavy warmth touched his shoulder. Beckett's hand. "Colonel Sheppard...I need you to open your eyes for me," the Doc persisted.

"Hurts," John whispered, because suddenly every part of him felt achy and bruised, but more specifically his wrist felt like it was burning. The wrist with the bracelet. He weakly lifted both arms and tried tugging at the metal even though he knew it wouldn't come off.

Carson eyed John with concern that he wasn't able to hide. "Would you like and ice chip, Colonel?"

John wanted one desperately but to reply seemed to be too much of an effort. Apparently his attempt to open his eyes was reply enough and John felt something cool and wet touch his lips. He parted them and heavenly wetness slid down his parched throat. He wanted more. Gearing himself up to vocalize his need, John felt wetness on his lips again and pushed the tip of his tongue out to taste copper. Then something was being pressed against his face. The pressure hurt but he didn't have the strength to make it stop. He felt himself drifting away again, but the darkness didn't claim him this time.

He had a peripheral awareness of things. People. Familiar voices. He recognized Rodney and Elizabeth and Carson. He recognized his name as Rodney spoke in sharp, staccato bursts. He realized Carson was explaining something about him. Nosebleeds. He was talking about John having nosebleeds. A lot of them in twenty-four hours. Sluggish as his mind felt, John realized that couldn't be good.

That wasn't the only thing he realized. The pain he was feeling, it didn't feel right. It felt different than he remembered pain feeling. As if it weren't his pain, which made no sense and he would have laughed at that if he was able. Yet the thought remained that something wasn't right and that he needed to make Rodney understand that.

"M-Mc..Kay..." It hurt to make that simple sound. Hurt enough to make John whimper.

"Colonel?" Carson was by his side in an instant. "Are you in pain?"

John forced his eyes open, blinking hard to bring everything into focus. He thought he was zoning out again for a moment when everything faded to black, but then it flashed bright again, making his head hurt more.

Rodney cursed. "Looks like another system will be shutting down soon!"

That statement cut through the fog in John's head. "System?" he echoed.

"Don't worry about it, John." It was Elizabeth who spoke from the other side of his bed.

"What...what's..." John broke off, as pain lanced through his skull.

Rodney had moved to his side now and he studied John through a narrowed gaze. "Atlantis is shutting down, system by system," he said, having apparently been able to translate John's question. "It started happening a few days ago." Rodney's eyes were bloodshot and he rubbed at them wearily with one fist. "This really sucks. It's bad enough you're shutting down, but Atlantis seems to feel the need to follow suit."

"Rodney!" Carson's tone was sharp and conveyed anger. "Watch what you say!" he chided the scientist.

John didn't want them mincing words. And the fact that he was shutting down wasn't much of a revelation. He could feel his body betraying him. But it still felt as if it were someone else's pain. The lights flickered again and pain centered on his wrist where the bracelet touched his skin, sending bursts throughout his body. John couldn't hold back a soft cry and he felt a hand on his face. He managed to focus his gaze on Elizabeth. She looked sad and scared and John wished he could tell her not to worry. But his only real focus was the pain. He dug at his skin, wishing he could tear it away and make the pain stop. "Burns...burns," he whispered.

Rodney stiffened suddenly, then he was grabbing John's wrist and shoving the bracelet aside. "There aren't any marks." He sounded surprised as he rubbed a finger over John's skin. Then his grip tightened and he seemed oblivious to John's whimper of pain as he hissed out, "Oh my god! I'm an idiot!"

"What are you talking about?" It was Elizabeth who asked.

"When did Atlantis start shutting down, so to speak?" Rodney countered.

John waited for the answer to that question.

He didn't have long to wait. Rodney answered it himself. "About the same time that Sheppard started shutting down. It's connected. Like she's feeling sympathy pains or something. Carson...you have to make Sheppard better. Now!" Rodney sounded frantic.

"No..." John croaked out the word. Rodney was close, so close, but he was wrong about one very important thing. John wasn't making Atlantis sick. It was the reverse. He suddenly understood the pain he was feeling. Atlantis was hurting and he knew how to fix her. "Chair..the...the chair." John gasped out the words and felt breathless when he was done.

"What?" The startled exclamation came from Elizabeth and Carson in unison.

John heard Elizabeth speak up. "What is he talking about? What Chair?"

Rodney snorted. "What chair do you think? And it's worth a shot. Call Ronon and get a wheel chair. We need to get Sheppard in the control chair. Now!"

"Are you insane, Rodney?" Carson sounded furious. "We can't move him! He's too weak! Moving him will set him back further!"

"He's dying, Carson!" Rodney snapped. "Your voodoo tricks aren't helping him. And if that doesn't convince you to try this, then keep in mind the fact that we will all die if Atlantis shuts down. It's worth a shot! Don't you think?"

John heard shuffling, then Carson asking, "Elizabeth? It's your call. Rodney's right. The Colonel is just getting worse and I don't know how to stop it."

There was a long moment of silence, or maybe John just zoned out. He was pretty sure the latter happened because suddenly he felt himself being lifted and he thought maybe it was Ronon and they were going to take him to the chair room, only when he blinked hard he realized he was already there. It was Ronon lifting him though. Holding him carefully before striding over to the chair and setting him down into it gently.

John felt himself list over to the side, felt strong hands grip him. He fumbled with his own arms, trying to lift them so he could set his palms against the chair pads. He felt his wrists gripped and then his hands were flat down where they belonged and John lifted his head to see Rodney's blurry image.

"You ready?" Rodney asked him.

"Yes," John whispered. He closed his eyes and he felt the connection take hold of him. He felt himself shattering into light and heat and traveling into the core of Atlantis. He felt Atlantis become as liquid as he was and she weaved herself into him, twining them together.

She was sick. A virus was destroying her from within. It was so close to the core that John felt the pain even now. He felt the weakness but he fought against it. He had to save her. So he focused on the cold sickness, seeking it out and ripping it away from Atlantis in layers. He didn't understand how he was doing it, but he knew he was helping and that Atlantis was gaining strength because of it. In her strength she was able to support him and John sensed that Rodney was doing his part as well.

It seemed to last forever and then he felt lighter and the pain started fading away from him. He felt himself become warmer and stronger and free. He felt Atlantis bloom into life again and the hum that was her soul filled him. He felt his heart beat strong within his chest even as he realized he was shifting back into himself. Back to awareness.

There was no more pain. The relief made John want to weep, but darkness claimed him and he fell into her warm embrace.

OoO

Elizabeth sat at the head of the conference table, staring at Rodney who was typing furiously on his laptop, even as he conversed in whispered tones with Radek. After a moment she looked at the others. Teyla and Ronon who sat across from her, and Carson on their left. She cleared her throat and said firmly, "Rodney?"

"Yes, what?" He didn't look up from his task.

"Can you explain what happened to those of us who are sitting here in the dark." Thankfully, it wasn't literal darkness.

Rodney's head snapped up at that and he grimaced. "Well...uh...I can tell you that Sheppard fixed everything."

Radek was nodding and interjected with, "He may have made things better."

"How so?" It was Teyla who asked.

"Hard to explain," Radek replied, almost apologetically. "But he seems to have brought more systems online that will allow us to protect Atlantis better and make better use of our energy outputs."

Elizabeth was pleased to hear that. "That's good news."

Rodney nodded. "Very."

"What about Sheppard?" Ronon was the one to ask and he looked to Beckett for a reply.

"He's doing better as well," Carson said happily. "He's sleeping and it's a healing sleep. Finally."

Teyla looked relieved. "What about the bracelet? Why did it just...disappear?"

Rodney looked excited. "That is a most excellent question," he enthused.

"And the answer would be?" Elizabeth prompted, curious to know.

"I have no idea," Rodney admitted. "It would have helped to be able to study it, but maybe Sheppard will be able to explain it when he wakes up."

Radek picked up at that point. "I have been searching Ancient data base and there is mention of an alloy that seems to be similar to what the bracelet was made of. My Ancient is not up to par." He paused to look at Elizabeth. "I was hoping you might be willing to do some translating for me. Perhaps then I will have better idea of where to look next."

Elizabeth nodded. "I'd be happy too," she replied. Any chance to help was welcome. She smiled at Radek, noticing his slight blush, but not commenting on it as she turned to Carson. "So can you safely say that John will make a full recovery now?"

"He'll get better," Carson allowed. "He will still have to deal with the Shuloc addiction."

"Of course." Elizabeth had rather hoped that whole scenario might have just disappeared. "Will his connection to Atlantis remain as strong as it has been?"

Rodney jumped up and began pacing. "I've been wondering about that myself and I believe it will. In fact, I'm thinking it might become stronger if he works on it. Maybe Teyla can teach him to meditate and all that stuff."

Teyla looked surprised but nodded. "I would be happy to help if John wishes."

"That might be a good idea all the way around," Carson interjected. "And there's something I've been wanting to ask you about, Rodney." He turned his attention to the scientist who was still pacing around the table.

"Ask me anything," Rodney offered. "Seeing as how I know pretty much everything."

Elizabeth rolled her eyes and Rodney's lack of modesty, then she watched Carson, waiting for his question.

It was blurted out. "Could the Shuloc addiction be connected to Colonel Sheppard's ability to connect with Atlantis the way he has?"

Rodney didn't look surprised by the question. He looked thoughtful for a moment, then he nodded. "I've tried to put a timeline together and I'll need to talk to Sheppard to confirm it, but I'm guessing that it is connected. Between his gene and the Shuloc and the way Atlantis has always liked him best, I'm sure it's all connected." There was a tinge of jealousy in Rodney's tone.

"Then he might lose his connection now that he's off the Shuloc," Ronon commented.

"Or not," Carson replied, firmly. "I don't think there were any traces of the drug in his system when he connected to Atlantis this last time. The bracelet might have been something of a conduit, but I believe the connection is something that's just meant to be between the Colonel and this city."

Elizabeth found herself agreeing with Carson. She had always thought, even before coming to the Pegasus galaxy, that John Sheppard belonged in Atlantis. So far he had proven her theory to be true. Pushing away from the table, she stood up and smiled. She was tired and she knew everyone else felt the same. It had been a rough few weeks, but she felt hope burning bright within her now. "Bottom line for me is that Atlantis is better and so is Colonel Sheppard. And on that positive note, I think we should all get some rest."

Rodney snatched up his laptop and headed for the door without saying goodbye to anyone.

Radek followed suit, but he waved as he left.

"Want to get something to eat?" Ronon asked Teyla.

"Yes, I would like that," she replied, walking out with him.

That left Elizabeth and Carson. She walked him to the door. "Would it be all right if I sat with John for a while?" she queried.

Carson nodded. "It's fine. Just don't wear yourself out. I have enough worry over the Colonel to deal with." His tone was teasing as he cautioned her.

"Don't I know it," Elizabeth replied. She accompanied Carson to the infirmary, then headed for the corner and the curtained off area that housed the Military head of Atlantis. Pushing the curtain aside, Elizabeth moved to John's bed. She studied him for a moment. He looked different now. Not as pale and much less fragile. The heaviness that had been weighing Elizabeth down, lifted.

Smiling, she reached out gave in to the urge to comb spiky dark strands of hair off John's forehead. "Good job, Colonel," she said softly. "Thanks for saving everyone once again."

She watched as he shifted slightly, head turning so he faced her, almost as if he'd heard her.

Elizabeth thought maybe he had so she whispered softly, "Thank you, John."

**THE END...of part 20**


	22. Chapter 22

**SLOW MOTION...part 21**

Consciousness returned to John in stages. The first thing he became aware of was the absence of pain. It made him feel almost giddy to realize he didn't hurt anymore. The second thing he noticed was the hum of Atlantis. She was with him. A comforting presence that he appreciated. He also could tell that she was better now as well. The next thing he noticed was that he had a catheter. Now that sucked big time.

"Colonel?"

Recognizing Carson's voice, John blinked hard, bringing the Scotsman's face into fuzzy focus. The lights were a bit too bright and John willed them lower. He smiled when Atlantis did his bidding. That was so cool.

Apparently Carson was equally impressed. "Well now, that's a neat trick, isn't it?" he stated, as he stared around him, then focused on John with worried eyes. "How are you feeling, Colonel?"

"Better," John whispered. His throat felt too dry to do more than that.

"Have a sip of water." Carson offered a glass with a straw.

The water tasted wonderful, but John knew enough to only take a few sips. "Thanks," he said, his voice stronger now. "How...how long was I out of it?"

Carson set the glass on the bedside table, then went about checking on John's IV. He fussed with it for a moment then said, "You've been in and out for three days. Mostly out. Catching up on much needed rest I reckon."

"Yeah...that's about right," John conceded, because he felt better than he remembered feeling in a long time. Even with the Shuloc, he'd felt worn out in a sense. Now he felt rested, but weak. Just shifting about to get more comfortable made him a bit lightheaded.

"Are you hungry?" Carson sounded anxious as he asked.

John considered his stomach. It felt almost hollow. "Yeah...I could eat," he replied. Although he was wise enough not to ask for a turkey sandwich. He knew he'd be getting broth for a few meals. Gesturing to his lower region, he fought a blush as he queried, "When can I get rid of the tubing?"

Carson swallowed a chuckle and studied John. "If you feel up to a try, and I remove it now and we can get you standing. But you'll need a wheel chair to get to the bathroom and my help to stay upright."

"Fine." John wasn't going to argue with Carson, because he knew he wasn't strong enough to walk around yet. But he fully intended to get there as quick as possible. Five minutes later he was in the bathroom. He'd talked Carson into letting him lean while he emptied his bladder, relishing the few seconds of privacy. Despite the pain of the withdrawal, John remembered a lot of what had happened, and how he felt as if he'd been on display for most of it.

"Done?" Carson called from outside the door.

"Done." John pushed away from the wall and turned towards the sink. His legs felt like jello, but he made it without mishap. He washed his hands, splashed water on his face and combed wet hands through his hair. It made him feel a bit refreshed as he dried his face and ran the towel over his head.

Carson came in without announcing himself, but he did nothing more than move to stand beside John. After a moment he asked, "Ready to go back?"

John nodded. He felt worn out, but in a good way. Okay, not good really. But in a better way. He felt like he fit in his own skin again. He let Carson take his arm and support him back to the wheel chair. A few minutes later he was tucked back into bed. A nurse appeared, as if on cue, with a mug of broth.

"Thanks," John said, accepting it. He closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth seeping into his palms.

"You seem at peace," Carson commented, as he fussed with the covers.

"I feel at peace," John replied, before taking a sip of the broth. It felt good going down, warming him on the inside.

Carson stopped fussing and moved to grab a chair. He sat down and locked eyes with John. "You realize that you're not going to simply go back to normal, Colonel. It's not going to be that easy."

John knew that better than anyone. "I'll still be an addict," he said softly, then he took another sip of broth while he waited for the inevitable lecture. He knew he deserved it.

"Kate will be in later to talk to you about sessions," Carson said, almost defensively.

"I figured as much." John almost grinned at the look of surprise on the Doc's face. He knew Carson had expected him to argue about this. But John knew he needed help. He knew he needed to face the demons that had pushed him into taking the Shuloc. He wasn't sure what they were, but he wasn't going to hide from them anymore. That wasn't his style.

Before Carson could respond, footsteps sounded, then Rodney bellowed,

"Carson!"

"What?" Carson stood up and moved to confront McKay. "What are you yelling for? I'm not deaf you know!"

Rodney made a face at him as he reached him. "I know that. But I wanted to ask you..." He broke off as he realized John was awake. "It's about time you woke up!" Rodney stated, as he did a sharp pivot turn and headed straight for Sheppard's bed. "You have to tell me how you connected with Atlantis. Every detail. And what about the bracelet? Was it a conduit? Can you still feel Atlantis? "

John started laughing, which caused Rodney to break off his babbling.

"What's so funny?" Rodney demanded, looking aggrieved.

"Nothing." John chuckled a moment longer, then settled down. He took another sip of soup then he smiled at Rodney. "I have a lot to tell you," he allowed. "I remember everything. It was amazing." He knew he was smiling, an ear to ear grin, but he was excited. He wanted to talk about this and he knew Rodney was the only person who would understand what he was saying. What it meant."

Grabbing the chair Carson had abandoned, Rodney sat down, looking enraptured. "So tell me," he invited, waving his hands in the air. "Tell me everything in complete and excruciating detail."

Carson interjected before John could respond. "Rodney, the Colonel needs to rest. He just woke up. Remember? You can come back and chat later."

"Let him stay for a bit," John pleaded, because he wanted to share what he'd learned, what he'd seen. The wonder of it all that was still thrumming through him. "Just until I finish my broth?" He turned on the puppy dog eyes at full pout.

"Ten minutes," Carson relented. "And I'm timing you to the second. He tapped his watch to show he was serious, then he turned and stalked off.

Rodney didn't even notice he was gone. "So what was it like?" he asked, sounding envious already.

John took a moment to find the best words to describe it. Then suddenly he knew exactly what to say. "Like flying without wings."

"Cool," Rodney whispered.

"Yeah, it is." John closed his eyes at the memory. Then he spent the next ten minutes telling Rodney everything he could.

OoO

Five days later, John was finally released from the infirmary. He'd had two sessions with Kate and they'd both agreed he would be fine with weekly sessions for a couple of months, then maybe a session a month just to keep updated. Elizabeth had been good with that too. And good with John starting up with light duty in two days. He was getting ancy just lying about.

She found him on the balcony, staring up at the stars. "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?" she offered in greeting.

"Probably," John allowed, smiling at her. "But it's my first day of freedom and I want to savor every second of it."

"You'll be free tomorrow too," Elizabeth reminded him, but she didn't argue with him further. She simply joined him at the rail and did some stargazing of her own.

After a few minutes of companionable silence, John said, "I'm sorry."

Elizabeth was surprised. She turned to face him and saw sincerity shimmering in his eyes. "Sorry for what?"

"For being stupid," John replied. He winced, shrugged, then turned back to the stars. "I knew the Shuloc wasn't good for me, but I kept taking it anyway."

"Why did you take it?" Elizabeth asked, because she felt she had the right too. They had almost lost him and Atlantis and she wanted to understand what had made him risk so much. Losing Atlantis she could have learned to live with, but losing John? Elizabeth didn't want to think about that. Ever. Although it occurred to her that losing one was the same as losing the other in so many ways.

John sighed, tapping an uneven beat on the railing with his fingertips, then he faced her once more. "I wanted to be more. To be better than I was. To be...strong enough to protect Atlantis and everyone in it. The Shuloc made me feel like I could do that."

Elizabeth shook her head at him. "But that's what you've always done, John. From the moment you stepped foot on Atlantis. You've protected her and us."

"I suppose," he allowed. "But there's a part of me that feels guilty for putting everyone in danger in the first place."

"By waking up the Wraith?" Elizabeth had long guessed that John felt guilty about that. They had even talked about it after Sumner had died. Well, she had talked, John had nodded and they'd never spoke of it again. But she knew all about shouldering that kind of guilt. She carried her own fair share of it. Guilt over the pain she had caused John by asking him to come to Atlantis. But that was her own burden to live with.

Shifting away from the railing, John started pacing, his movements restless. "I know they were going to wake up anyway, but I still feel guilty. And it's not just about that. I have a lot of skeletons in my closet. You've read my file. You know about a lot of them." He held up a hand when she started to object and Elizabeth fell silent again. John continued. "Turns out it wasn't just my guilt though. Atlantis has her own skeletons. I know it sounds crazy to say this, but when I connected with her the last time, I realized she felt the pain of having lost her people all those years ago. And now I sense she's afraid of losing us too."

Elizabeth nodded at that. Rodney had shared with her the things John had told him about being in the chair and healing Atlantis. She wasn't exactly sentient, but she was connected to John in a way that Elizabeth couldn't even begin to understand. But she was glad of it. She felt safer knowing that they were both watching over her and the others she had brought here. "Are the sessions with Kate helping?" Elizabeth queried.

"I think so." John stopped pacing and turned to face her, looking a bit uncomfortable. "I'm not good at sharing my feelings, but she's pretty good at figuring out what I'm not saying so...it's working out okay."

"I'm glad." Elizabeth meant it.

John laughed. "Yeah. Me too. Hey...feel like some tea or something? Maybe a game of chess?"

Elizabeth made a face at him. "You're supposed to be sleeping."

"I'll sleep later," John replied. "I'm feeling too restless to try it right now." He looked at her with eyes that were pleading with her in a way he would never vocalize.

"One game and warm milk instead of tea," Elizabeth countered.

John made a face then drawled, "Yes, mom."

Elizabeth laughed and it felt good to do so. She knew that John wasn't back to normal yet, but she it was obvious he knew that too so she felt like she could breathe again. Things wouldn't be back to normal tomorrow, but they would get there. Or as normal as it got in the Pegasus galaxy. "Chess in my office?"

"Works for me." John headed for the doors and gestured for her to precede him. As they made their way down the silent corridors, John reached out to touch the walls, fingertips trailing gently over them. He looked content in a way Elizabeth had never seen before.

She watched him, feeling a touch of envy, and when they stepped into the transporter she said, "Maybe hot chocolate instead of warm milk?"

John grinned at her. "With Marshmallows?"

"We have that here?" Elizabeth was surprised.

"If you know where to look?" John looked impish.

Elizabeth chuckled. "With marshmallows," she allowed.

John touched the panel and a moment later he stepped out of the transporter. "Meet you in your office in ten minutes," he said, giving a sloppy salute before heading off.

Elizabeth watched him go, then she touched the panel and the doors closed. She let her fingertips glide over the wall, mimicking John from a moment before, and whispered, "Thank you."

She had a feeling Atlantis heard her.

OoO

Two months later, John's team was ready to go through the gate again.

He was waiting at the bottom of the steps. Ronon was off to his right, paring his nails with one of his many knifes. Teyla was on John's right, checking her tac vest. She always liked to double check her supplies before they went off on a mission. Rodney, per usual, was late.

But right on cue he came barreling towards them, tugging on his vest and complaining. 

John smiled as he studied them all. He tuned Rodney out and looked up to the balcony to find Weir smiling back at him.

"Ready to go, Colonel?" Elizabeth called out.

"More than ready!" John replied.

Elizabeth nodded then said to the tech, "Dial up the gate."

John watched it whoosh open then he turned to his team. "Let's go find us a ZPM." They were going to a planet that was on the list they'd gotten from Old Weir. The last address on the list and John was feeling lucky today.

"Good luck with that," Rodney said, almost as if reading John's mind. He was still babbling as he stepped into the puddle.

Ronon went next followed closely by Teyla. 

John turned to wave at Elizabeth, then he crossed over to where his team waited. He knew he had a shit-eating grin on his face as he joined them. Rocking on his heels, John said to Rodney, "Which way?"

After pulling out his scanner and turning in circles for a moment, Rodney pointed over John's shoulder. "That way."

"After you, Rodney," John drawled. He hefted his P90 and followed close behind, knowing that Teyla and Ronon would watch their backs.

It felt like coming home.

**THE END**


End file.
